Warning! I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course.
Note from Sassy: University is still trying to destroy my writing mojo, and so for that I can only apologise. That being said, I'm back with another mammoth chapter of CITS (hopefully) for your reading pleasure! I've been out of my comfort zone here in more ways than one, which is why it has taken me so long to get this one finished. As always though, I have to say a huge thank you to my beta, MisMot who has taken over a year of CITS ramblings in her stride. You know how much I love you, bearcat. I also want to throw a big thank you to UrgentOrange, for keeping me company at stupid o'clock (British time anyway). And to my thank you list, I also need to send a huge thank you and internet hugs to The Jew They Shunned for your beyond incredible review of my AU CITS collection. I know that I haven't gotten around to thanking you properly and replying, but don't think that it was because I didn't appreciate the effort that went into the review, only that you made me utterly speechless. So thank you! :)
And while I'm on the dedications, Chapter 25 is dedicated in part to the real life Trojan.
Amblynh: Thank you as always. :) It's so great to hear that you're still enjoying the chapters and especially that you're able to still empathise with the characters!
PotterxBreifsxUchihaxKiryuu: Thank you so much. :D I hope that I don't make you cry again too much, but just in case I'll have some tissues handy. :)
Eiram87: I'm so sorry to hear about you Grandmother. But thank you so much for such a heartfelt compliment. I hope that you're doing ok and as for Nikolai, never fear, he will still appear in CITS. I love him too much myself. ;)
Andrew's Brain: Thank you so much! :) I do worry about disappointing my loyal readers, so I'm glad that I didn't this time. :) I adored 'This is what makes us girls'. Lana Del Ray is steadily becoming one of my favourite artists to write to at the moment!
thesearemyconfessions: It's definitely taken Soap long enough to get there, that's for sure. But thank you so much! Sorry for the wait for this chapter. :)
xXthecatalystXx: *hugs* If it helps I may have shed a few tears myself, which is never good really. :P But thank you! Writing a more vulnerable Soap always feels a bit dangerous writing wise, so you really reassured me there. And thank you for the compliment about the music! I sometimes think that I get a bit carried away with soundtracking my chapters.
TarTarIcing: Thank you, I'm glad that the mood change worked. :)
Cookie and the UnicornPrincess: I'm going to try and reply to both of your reviews at once, but thank you so much for your kind compliments. :D I'm really flattered that you're enjoying my portrayals of Ghost and Lara and that the action scenes are working for you. :) I'm sorry for breaking your heart, although it's great to hear that you're enjoying the story so much this far, so thank you for that. I hope this chapter lives up to the wonderful compliments that you've given me thus far! :)
BHB: Thank you so much for your review, although it's always a great compliment knowing that you've been a long time lurker too. :D They'll be more Riley soon I promise. Unfortunately my lengthy writing style makes juggling characters a little difficult sometimes haha. :)
CallsignReaper01: Thank you so much! :D
Padackles77: Thanks so much, it's great knowing that this story was just what you were looking for. I hope you enjoy chapter 25 :)
Jolineloveszombies: To be honest with you, time gets the better of me too, especially when I spend too much of it on tumblr! Haha. But as always, thank you for such a lovely review. I'm glad that after all this time my writing is still managing to catch you a little off guard, it means that I'm doing my job right after all. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much. And thank you for the add on tumblr too! :D (Or follow. I'm old and not down with all this lingo :P)
UrgentOrange: I think we've talked about it before, but yeah, the torture in CoD does sometimes feel too convenient and plot driving. I'm glad that I managed to interpret the canon realistically though. :) As always, you seem to pick out my favourite lines, which is always a huge compliment, so thanks again for that one! And collarbones? Hell yeah. It's a totally normal obsession of mine… :P
Mishamishamisha: Thank you so much for your review, its even more of a compliment knowing that you don't write them very often (never worry about taking up my time either!) But really, I am so honoured that you like Lara, I've always worked hard at trying to stop her from becoming a Mary Sue OC. And knowing that you are a Toad/Archer fan is brilliant too. :D I'm no expert, but if you ever need help with an action scene, throw me a message, I'm happy to help in anyway if I can. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too.
MisMot:Oh my drunken broski, just you wait until next summer when I turn up in your neck of the woods and drink you dry of jager. :P But as always, thank you so very much. I swear most of the time you understand my characters better than me, so you always keep me on the right track, even when MacTavish starts getting a little too soft. :D You're the best beta a girl could ask for! ;)
"Can you lie next to her
and give her your heart, your heart?
As well as your body
And can you lie next to her
and confess your love, your love?
As well as your folly"
White Blank Page - Mumford & Sons
A woman dressed in a blue sun dress was grinning candidly, as though she'd been caught mid laugh. Her grey eyes were wide open and alive, a curled mass of light brown hair framing her features. She was running towards the camera with one hand outstretched, as though she intended to snatch it right out of the photographer's hand. Behind her, late afternoon sun was hitting the suburban street head on, the tall, shady trees crowned with a light green glow.
Karen. There was something about staring at the photograph for a little too long that made him feel wrong and in an instant the worn picture fell from Riley's finger tips and back onto Royce's bed. It lay there, staring up at him blankly, the woman's eyes locked in the same, euphoric expression. Except this time, there was something more pained and saddened there. As though she was reaching out to hold something that she always knew that she'd lose.
Ghost quickly averted his gaze. No matter what kind of reality you inhabited, be it a military or a civilian one, one thing would never change. Somehow, your lover would always leave.
"I had a feeling that I'd find you here." There was a voice from the doorway, but Riley didn't bother turning round, instantly recognising MacTavish's voice. Instead he continued to pack Royce's books meticulously into the cardboard box sitting on the bed.
"I wanted to do one last thing for Alex." The name instantly felt foreign on his tongue and yet at the same time, it felt necessary. Even on the base, Royce was rarely referred to by his first name and yet his call sign seemed to stick in Ghost's throat now that he was gone. He stacked another two books into the box. "Funny, really. He always said that this would be Greg's job."
"I just finished boxing up his things." MacTavish continued, his voice possessing the blank quality that Ghost instantly recognised as an attempt to mask his true emotions. He allowed himself a small, if self-conscious laugh. "There was a fair amount that his parents wouldn't have wanted to see."
"That was Greg." Riley nodded, retorting with a laugh of his own, out of politeness more than anything else. He turned around slowly. "I haven't even started on his CDs yet…" He glanced over to them quickly, the gesture a silent question. He knew that he had no real authority over whether MacTavish stayed to help him or not, but he still felt as though he should offer.
"Yeah…" Soap headed for the CDs immediately, grabbing a box in the process. He placed it down on the floor in front of Royce's CDs, lowering himself to his knees so that he could start piling them carefully into the box. They fell into silence almost immediately, the only noise being that of the occasional clink of plastic as the CDs clashed together.
"Shit…" MacTavish let out a soft laugh, causing Ghost to turn around. He held up a CD towards the lieutenant and smiled. "Remember this?"
"The music that nearly got Alex killed?" Ghost shook his head despairingly. He remembered it well, some god awful, synth filled 90s party album that Royce had dared play during Toad's birthday festivities. The drunken sniper had not been impressed to say the least. "I thought Chris snapped that thing in half?"
"He did." MacTavish opened the case in demonstration, the CD itself nowhere to be seen inside. "But you know Royce. Could never throw anything away."
"Too fucking right. It got to the point where I refused to be seen with 'im in that hideous yellow shirt."
"I think Greg threatened to burn that one himself." Soap laughed. "Along with all the shitty beer..."
"It won't be the same." The words slipped from his lips before he could really stop them and Riley regretted letting his guard down almost immediately. For the first time, he met MacTavish's gaze properly, the Captain looking at him expectantly. "I know we always say that… But with them both gone… It's just going to be even more fucked up around here."
"I know. I just hope the price they paid was worth the intel we got from Rojas."
"Rojas…" The lieutenant paused, taking time to run his tongue across his teeth, his eyes pensive. "You made the right call. Leaving him like that."
"Did I?" MacTavish laughed darkly, rocking back on his heels. "What I did made me no better than him, mate."
"That son of a bitch helped Makarov slaughter hundreds of civilians. It was the bastards on his payroll that took out Greg and Alex. He isn't the kind of guy for you to start developing a conscience about."
"But Rojas was detached. He didn't give a shit about what happened to his guns." MacTavish shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I couldn't do what I did back there without being the same kind of devil myself."
"You forget who you're talking to, mate? I don't think I really remember what remorse and empathy even are anymore." He tried to make it sound flippant, but in reality Riley's words left his mouth bitter and frustrated. For the first time in months, the bitterness was directed more at himself then it was at MacTavish, although he was in no hurry to admit that to anyone else but himself.
"Oh yeah?" John laughed. He turned round, fixing Riley with a piercing stare that he didn't appreciate. "Answer me something then."
"What?"
"If you're so broken and cold inside then why the hell did I find you in a dead man's room?" Standing up slowly, MacTavish walked over to where Ghost was still stood by Royce's bed. He nodded towards the boxes lined up on the mattress, each one as neatly packed as the other before turning back to Simon. "Alex meant a lot to us. Greg too. If they hadn't then we wouldn't have left Rojas in the state we did. And it's so bloody hypocritical when you think about it... How we can just switch off emotions like that. But my point is that it's not just you. We're all capable of it, me included. If anything, I proved that with Rojas."
"In a pep talk kind of mood, eh?" Ghost rolled his eyes, although a small smile did creep across his features unchecked. The rest of the task force might have found him an enigma but more often than not Riley could read the Captain, no his friend, better than most. Right now, with his words striving to find some common ground between them, was the closest MacTavish would ever come to an apology, or at very least a ceasefire. In truth, Riley had by no means forgotten any of the shit that MacTavish had thrown in his direction over the past few months, but with Bones out of his life Simon also appreciated the fact that he needed some kind of human touchstone somewhere. Besides, despite the bullshit between them, there was no denying MacTavish's loyalty to him, or the way that he still fully regarded him as his partner when they were out in the field despite their differences.
"Is it working?"
"No, but why change the habit of a lifetime?" Riley shook his head. "You're damn lucky that you know how to shoot. No one's ever followed you into hell because of your speeches, mate."
"Yeah well, I guess I've had some good luck along the way too." MacTavish's eyes settled on Royce's bed, to the picture that still lay flat against the sheets. He picked it up, holding it delicately in his hands. "Karen…" He sighed, tucking the photo into one of Royce's books to prevent it from being creased. "It's killing me that all we're sending her are a pile of cardboard boxes."
"I guess it's what we all are in the end; paper and red tape?"
"Maybe. But as long as you remember the people you care about, as long as they remember you… I guess that's the best you can ask for. Karen at least has some stories to tell their kid. It's not going to replace Royce as a father, but that child can grow up proud of what his dad did. Of who he was. That's worth a lot more than bits of paper and red tape if you ask me."
"Yeah…" He didn't ask for it, but a vivid image of Joseph suddenly flooded past Riley's mind's eye, his arms outstretched like an aeroplane as his dad spun him through the air. He flinched, attempting to shake the memories loose. Sometimes knowing that he was the only one keeping their memories alive both overwhelmed and saved him. "At least Alex got that bit right." He scratched the back of his head; quickly turning his attention back to what little remained of Royce's possessions. "I think I'm done here."
"I can finish up with what's left." MacTavish seemed to sense his discomfort and he automatically took a step backwards, almost as though he was trying to give the lieutenant some space to breathe. "I think Trojan is still skulking around here somewhere. I'm going to track him down and see if we can't get Meat and Royce's stuff sent home any quicker."
"If anyone's going to pull strings with Shepherd then it's his prized pet, right?"
"That's my plan."
"I'm going to check up on the rec room. Last I heard, some of the lads were having a bit of a bitch in there about the last op. Doubt me being there will stop them bitching, but at least they'll do it quieter with me around."
"I appreciate it, Riley." The Captain smiled, something that Simon took as a sign that he was free to leave. He turned his back, managing about three strides to the door before MacTavish called after him. "Simon?"
"Yeah?"
"Take this to the rec room with you?" John tossed a clump of fabric in his general direction and Ghost caught it. The shirt was instantly recognisable, the bright yellow one that he'd joked about burning earlier.
"Umm…?"
"I remember Royce saying that Karen hated it anyway." The Captain shrugged. "I figure we're allowed to keep something to help us remember him too. Hang it up over by the sound system maybe? He spent enough time over there playing DJ."
"Yeah." Ghost nodded, his grip tightening around the fabric. "Alex would've liked that."
As it was, Trojan didn't prove all that difficult for MacTavish to find.
He'd gotten back to his office to find an email from the man himself, requesting a meeting in the ops room later that morning. It was rare and vague just like every piece of correspondence Soap received from the spook, reading less like a request and more like an order. Although Trojan wasn't of a higher rank than himself, MacTavish had learnt that making an enemy out of his only real Shadow Company contact was a mistake long ago and as a result he felt obliged to humour him. Even so, a meeting with Trojan rather than Shepherd himself always brought with it an ominous feeling that the Captain didn't quite trust.
"MacTavish…" The smile on Trojan's face as the Captain entered the ops room was merely a formality. "I was beginning to think that you weren't planning on showing up."
"It's been a busy morning." Although he was hardly late, Soap had made no real effort to turn up early for their meeting. He gave Trojan a begrudging nod. "I don't think I need to remind you that I lost two of my men two days ago."
"General Shepherd sends his sympathies. Meat and Royce were bloody good operatives." The call signs left his lips with such ease that MacTavish fought to control irritation from flooding his features. As far as he was concerned, Trojan had no right to call them by anything but their first names. He hadn't earned it. "They'll be missed, I'm sure."
"An understatement to say the least. Their things are packed up and ready to go. I was hoping that we might be able to get them sent back a little faster than usual. Royce's wife is pregnant and-"
"I appreciate the sentiment, but there are proper channels for this, Captain." Trojan's voice was painfully indifferent.
"I know, but even so-"
"Neither of us are new to this. We both know that special treatment doesn't work well within the military." He watched MacTavish's features closely for a moment, his eyes pensive. "But I'll mention it to the General. I just wouldn't expect miracles." Almost as though he was physically drawing the conversation to a close, Trojan's attention shifted down to the table, retrieving a manila folder from the polished surface. He pulled out what looked to be a report, flicking through it quickly. "Either way, I'm here to talk about the intel your team retrieved from Brazil." He wafted the folder in MacTavish's general direction. "The notes from your debrief."
"I've already reported anything of interest." MacTavish said blankly, his hands tucked behind his back. "Faust gave us very little. Rojas himself didn't know all that much, even when we really pushed him. But he gave us the name of this prisoner 627 which as far as I can see is the only direct link we actually have to Makarov."
"627… yes." Trojan nodded bluntly, tapping at another file on the table. "Rojas mentioned a place called Petrapav, correct?" He waited for MacTavish to nod. "The closest match we were able to find was Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky; a city in eastern Russia. It's home to the Russian Navy's largest submarine base. But what we think Rojas was referring to is this…" He pointed to a small map with his fore finger. "Forty miles outside of the city; a Russian gulag. It's the only place fitting your intel within the area."
"So that must be where they're holding this prisoner."
"According to Rojas, yes." Trojan looked sceptical. "But right now the Russians aren't in a particularly cooperative mood. Finding out whether or not Rojas' intel checks out is nigh on impossible with relations as they are. Besides, even if we were able, there's nothing to say that there are any extensive records on who is being kept in this gulag and who isn't. From what little we know, it looks to be a 'throw away the key' kind of place."
"Then maybe it's about time we shared what we know with the Russians." MacTavish fixed Trojan with a determined stare. "Show them what we are trying to do and see if they're are more likely to cooperate then."
"Don't be so naïve, Captain. The US Government is in no position to show its hand, nor does it want to." The spook shook his head. "Besides, even with the intel we have nothing says that the Russian Government will actually listen to it."
"So what are you saying, Kevin? Because right now I don't see how we can go in there and extract 627 on all this sketchy intel and speculation."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, MacTavish." Trojan closed the two folders quickly. "With things as they are there's no further action that the General plans to take."
"That's bollocks." The Captain spat bluntly. "This is our only lead to Makarov..."
"And diplomatic relations between the US and Russia are strained to breaking point." Trojan let out a dark laugh, little more than a scoff. "The Americans aren't going to authorise a black op on a Russian soil right now, whatever the goal."
"The 141 are not an American task force…"
"No, but they are led by an American General." Trojan shook his head. "I'm sorry, MacTavish. But there is no way in hell the General will risk World War Three over some associate of Makarov's." He paused. "I doubt he would take that risk for Makarov himself."
"So what? We sit around and wait for the diplomats to finish playing nice with each other?" MacTavish was having trouble keeping his anger in check now. "Makarov is still out there planning god knows what. All this slow diplomacy is doing is buying him even more time."
"All this slow diplomacy is doing is trying to stop a conflict on a scale that we haven't seen in nearly eighty years." Trojan warned, his voice still remaining flat and monotone. "What happened in Moscow changed everything."
"And with respect, two of my men died for this intel." MacTavish took a step forwards, advancing on the other man. "They'd didn't give their lives just for it to sit on some computer somewhere waiting to become useful!"
"I realise that you have a personal stake in this, MacTavish. But even so, you must realise that what you're asking just isn't possible right now." Trojan's eyes gave away his frustration but he held his ground, attempting to keep his voice calm at least. "Nothing you or anyone else can do right now is going to change this. I know that it's not how you like to operate but these are the cards you've been dealt by Shepherd himself."
Soap felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. With all of his arguing he'd forgotten that although Trojan was the one he was raising his voice to, the orders themselves were from someone far superior to him. The realisation was a bitter and altogether painful one. Even with all of the best will in the world, General Shepherd was his commanding officer. Challenging his authority was not something to be done lightly, especially when it threatened his own authority and professionalism.
"… Orders are orders." MacTavish finally forced the words from his mouth, his shoulders hunching as though the act had consumed every bit of his self-restraint. He clenched his teeth to stop himself from speaking further, taking a deliberate step backwards to show his subjugation. The action alone felt as though it tore at everything he was.
"If the situation changes, the General will be the first person out for Makarov's blood." Gathering the folders up underneath one arm, Trojan stepped around MacTavish purposefully. "We're all eager to put an end to this, Captain. But with politics as they are we have to be realists too."
"I'm more than aware of that."
"Then I know that you understand." Trojan nodded abruptly, his eyes searching MacTavish's for a split second. Hidden within them was an emotion that the Captain couldn't read, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. When Trojan spoke again, his voice seemed that little bit more human. "We all appreciate the sacrifices your men made. The intel you recovered from Brazil won't sit around gathering dust forever. You can be certain of that."
"Good." Soap replied bluntly, his arms folded across his chest. "It shouldn't have to."
Daylight was supposed to make everything feel better. More alive, more positive. But as McCoy stepped into the rec room that morning one thing had become blatantly obvious. Even in the light of day, the broken spirit of the 141 still needed time to heal.
Surprisingly she'd overslept, a deep sleep overcoming her exhausted sub conscious. She'd awoken naturally, the heavy nature of her sleep leaving her feeling neither fresh nor rested. She'd hauled herself out of bed and into her shower, hoping that cool water might somehow shake the fogginess that still clogged her thoughts.
Training had been cancelled the night before and the change in routine left her feeling disorientated. Her body craved more rest, her tired muscles straining as she pulled on clothes, her baggy grey vest top jammed carelessly into her fatigues. Her mind on the other hand wanted order; months of strict military routine making the sudden free time feel unwanted and alien. After all, it gave her far too much chance to think. Quickly realising that now wasn't the time for her to be alone, Lara had headed for the rec room.
The atmosphere inside was unlike anything McCoy had experienced within the 141 before. It wasn't wholly quiet by any means, but even so the mood within the room struck her instantly as being 'off', somehow lacking the usual relaxed feeling that used to otherwise inhabit the barracks. Judging by the faces of every man around her, McCoy guessed that she wasn't the only one picking up on this subtle, if ominous tension.
It was almost like a kaleidoscope of human emotion, each man seemingly dealing with his grief in his own personal way. For some, that meant laughing and joking as though nothing had changed, the humour dark and their laughter somewhat overzealous. For others, it simply meant seclusion, clusters of men breaking often into smaller groups to share in quiet conversations or games of cards.
McCoy's gaze settled on the far left hand corner of the room, Ghost instantly recognisable. He was stood on a small stool, his back to her as he hammered a nail into the wall above the rec rooms sound system. No one else reacted to the sound. For a split second, she toyed the idea of going to speak with him around her head, her mind already skipping forwards and planning the exchange. For once, it wasn't because she felt that she should talk to Riley, more that she wanted to…
"You look just about as shit as I feel." Ozone's voice suddenly caught Lara's attention and she turned to her left, her mouth flicking up into an automatic, if awkward smile. The thoughts of her conversation with Riley were lost in seconds. "Couldn't sleep either?"
"The opposite, I've had too much. Feel as though I've been out for days." She attempted a small, if slightly stunted laugh. "I think it's the first time I've ever actually missed training."
"Now that's the 141 talking. I think 80% guys today have been down on the range or in the gym." He pursed his lips. "I guess none of us really know what to do with free time anymore, right?"
"Too right. Maybe I'd do better on the range myself."
"I doubt that." Ozone shook his head. "Archer's been holed up there pretty much all day. "Even Toad knows better than to bother him today." He waved his hand in Chris' general direction, the sniper stood over in the kitchen, visibly joking with Rook and Scarecrow.
"Cheers for the warning."
"Don't mention it. Although if you want to keep taking my advice, I'd go find Roach."
"Is he ok?"
"I'm not so sure; he wouldn't talk to me last night. Riley said something about them damn near being compromised back in the favela, but Gary just shut down on me." The Canadian shrugged. "He does that; I think he'd rather just bury his head in the sand than face up to shit sometimes. But either way, he was worried about you. We both saw you bolt last night."
"You did?" Lara bit her lip. Guilt washed over her like a wave. She'd never even stopped to think about Gary or Nick or any of the others. "I was fine… It all just got a bit…" She was struggling to find the words to describe the cocktail of emotions that had managed to finally get the better of her.
"Hey, you don't need to justify anything to me. It can get pretty intense in here and believe me, we've all been there." He smiled kindly. "But like I said, go find Gary. Even if you can't get him to open up it'll help him just knowing that you're ok."
"Maybe you're right. Thanks. Gary's lucky to have you watching his back."
"He's my best friend." Nick stated plainly. "He'd do the same for me in a heartbeat."
Despite the close relationship she and Roach shared, McCoy had only been in his room a couple of times. Mostly they met in the rec room or elsewhere on the base and when it came to their more private conversations they always seemed to graduate to the Infirmary and the safety of her quarters. Most of the time, Lara gave the arrangement very little thought.
But, as she stepped into Gary's room, McCoy was suddenly hit by the vast array of things that she still didn't know about her best friend. After all, they were all so blatantly there, plastered across the walls.
Gary was the exception to many a rule and his room it seemed was no different. Where most of the men appeared to favour white washed walls with very little personality, Roach liked to decorate his with whatever he could find, to make them all busy and full of life. Strewn across the plaster were pictures of his family and friends, interesting snippets and articles from magazines, all interspersed with posters of half-naked glamour models and indie bands that Lara had never even heard of. It was almost as if the very walls themselves were snapshots of his life, his loves, reminders of the living, breathing person who remained long after he shrugged off his combat armour and fatigues.
"Hey…" Gary's face seemed to lighten and he smiled, sitting up slightly from his reclined position on the bed. The book he was reading fell open in his lap. "I was just thinking about coming to see you."
"Oh yeah?" Lara quirked an amused eyebrow, sitting down on the bed by his legs. "Tough luck. Looks like I beat you to it."
"Well I was only letting your lazy ass oversleep." He smirked. "After all, what would Princess Bones do without all her beauty sleep, huh?"
"Fuck you, Gary. You know damn well that I sleep less than you."
"True, but where's the fun in being honest?" Laughing, he sat up straight, closing his book carelessly and tossing it onto his bedside table. "I'm guessing that you're here for more than just teasing though, right?"
"I'm just doing my rounds." McCoy shrugged idly. She nodded her head towards one of the posters by Roach's bed, a pale redhead in skimpy lingerie straddling a chair. "Besides, you know that I just can't resist your startlingly accurate portrayals of the female anatomy…"
"Feeling a bit insecure, eh, Bones?"
"Please…" Lara grinned, a small laugh escaping her lips. "I bet she just longs for biceps like mine really."
"I think half of the task force long for biceps like yours." Gary retorted, shrinking away from her when she reached out quickly to smack him on the shoulder. "Hey! Watch it… you're hitting damaged goods here!"
"Damaged?" It took Lara a good few seconds longer than she would have liked to realise and when she did her stomach lurched almost painfully. She concentrated her gaze on his face, suddenly becoming aware of the faint cuts and scrapes that marked his forehead and left cheek. Her voice was suddenly deadly serious. "What aren't you telling me, Gary?"
"You didn't ask." He shrugged and then immediately winced from the action. "Besides, the guys at the FOB patched me up. There's nothing to tell."
"Like hell there isn't." Bones was already leaning closer to him. "Where are you hurt?"
"It's just a few cuts and bruises…"
"Then let me bloody well see!" The words left her mouth far more frustrated than she meant them too and Lara instantly reigned herself in. She fixed Gary with a strong, knowing glare. "You can show me now or I read it all in your report tomorrow. It's your choice."
"Just so you know, the queen bitch look really doesn't suit you." Roach sulked, rolling his eyes as a rough sigh escaped his lips. Almost out of pure stubbornness alone he paused, biding his time to answer. "I cracked a rib and managed to bruise another. My knees are pretty torn up and my hands are…" He held them out to her, palms facing upwards so that she could see the diagonal, yet shallow cuts across his skin. "… They've been better, but they're nothing I can't handle." He saw the look on Lara's face and forced a quick smile. "And yeah, before you ask, I've had all my shots."
"What medication are you on?"
"The usual pain meds. I should have a stockpile by now."
"I'm going to have to examine you, maybe put you on some anti-inflammatories." She rubbed the palm of her right hand across her chin thoughtfully. "And you know you're off the physical training roster for at least three weeks, right?"
"Believe it or not, I've cracked ribs before." He gave her a roguish smile. "Back when I was training for Delta. I've never hit the ground that hard since."
"Either way, you're still my patient, that doesn't change even if you've broken every single bone in your body." She shook her head, seeing past his smile with ease. "But seriously, what happened out there, Gary? After the CASEVAC I mean."
"Pretty much what you already know. We found Rojas, interrogated him and then got the hell out of there." There was something amiss with his tone. "The end."
"And what? Rojas' militia slashed at you with broken glass and cracked your ribs?" Lara gave him a sceptical look. "I spoke to Nick. He said you'd just shut down on him when he tried to talk to you about this last night." She paused, worrying her lip. "Don't try it with me too, mate."
"I should have guessed. Nick's got one hell of a big mouth." Gary lowered his eyes, his shoulders hunching slightly. When he looked back up and met Lara's gaze, his face was almost defeated. "I fell, ok?"
"Where?"
"The militia had us cornered and the first LZ was overrun. We were running across the rooftops to the secondary LZ and I fell, misjudged the jump, whatever. Next thing I know I'm lying in the dirt with the militia breathing down my neck."
"What did you do?"
"I ran. It was either that or just lie there and give them target practice. You have no idea how many times I thought I was about to take a bullet."
"Shit…" In some ways it was more to comfort herself than him as Lara reached out for his forearm, her fingers curling around it in enough of a squeeze to remind her that he was still alive and breathing in front of her. It might have been irrational, pathetic even, but there was no denying the fact that she wasn't ready to even think about losing anyone else, never mind her best friend. "I'm sorry, Gary. I should have talked to you sooner… or something."
"After what we went through with Greg?" Roach shook his head. "Lara, I'm ok. Sure, it scared the hell out of me at the time and I'm not feeling so hot right now, but I'm alive, right?" He laughed darkly. "I mean hell, it's not like I'm even being haunted by some life altering epiphany I had whilst I was running from all that gunfire. It wasn't like in the movies; all flashbacks of the best friends you'd lose and the girls in high school you never kissed. It was just me running and praying to God that what happened to Greg wouldn't happen to me." He ran his tongue across his teeth. "I never want to go out like that."
"No one should." His words alone had brought the bitter image of Meat's last moments before Lara's mind's eye and she fought to push them back. "But at least he wasn't alone."
"I guess." Gary scratched at the back of his head ruefully. "But I still feel like I made the wrong call. Splitting off from Royce and Ozone I mean. Royce told me that they could handle it. Hell, he ordered me to go. But that doesn't stop me thinking that if I'd stayed behind he'd have never caught that bullet."
"You can't look back on it knowing what you know now. Right then, our objective was stabilising Meat. Royce knew that I couldn't do that and watch our arse at the same time." She gave him a weak, if deliberate smile. "Either way he could have caught that bullet with you stood right next to him."
"Unfortunately cold hard logic doesn't always stop your brain from going places it doesn't want to go." He gave her a meaningful look. "I bet you were doing the same damn thing last night. That's why you bailed, right?"
"You saw me, huh?"
"I was looking out for you, yeah. I guess I just remembered how you'd looked back in Rio and knew that you'd be blaming yourself." He paused, running this tongue across his lips to wet them anxiously. "I was going to go check up on you, but then I saw MacTavish leave."
"You did?" Lara knew that there was no real point in hiding anything from Roach anymore.
"Sure, but only because I knew what I was looking for. I'm pretty sure no one else noticed, even Riley."
"Believe it or not, I didn't expect anyone to come find me. I just wanted to be alone, space, time to grieve I guess. I didn't really stop to think about what you or MacTavish might need."
"If you ask me, last night was about being a little bit selfish. If it helps, I don't think that you and the Captain were the only ones. Ozone sneaked off the base and stayed with Adam in the town. Toad and Archer drowned themselves in a bottle of whisky. And as for me…" He paused, tapping at a picture beside his bed of a girl who looked to be in her late teens, the smile on her face almost identical to his. "I managed to steal the phone and talk to my little sister. Not about anything important, just regular stuff like her summer plans. But it helped, you know?"
"It's the little things that remind us of the bigger picture." Lara nodded, her mind suddenly shooting back to MacTavish, to the soft thoughts she allowed herself in her more private moments, to the life that she wished they could share. It was true that those thoughts alone had helped her get through some of her most troubled, sleepless nights with the 141. She eyed Roach curiously, worrying her lip as she weighed up her next sentence. "About MacTavish…"
"Lara, I've tried to tell you how to live your life before and I'm not about to pretend that it went so well. I took matters into my own hands and ended up screwing you over even more. I don't think I'm really the person you need to be listening to right now."
"Maybe not, but I'm still asking for it." She sighed. "I care about what you think, Gary. I can't say that about everyone else."
"Then I guess all I can tell you is to be careful. You don't need me to tell you what you're getting into, you've been there before. And right now, with everything we've faced? I don't think I have the right to try stopping either of you from being happy." He paused, a mischievous laugh rushing past his lips, almost as an afterthought. "And I swear I won't come charging in defending your honour again this time around. That's one mistake I'm in no hurry to make again."
"Another split lip got you running scared, eh, Sergeant?" Lara teased.
"More the insubordination papers I'd be served with later. I learned from an early age that messing with your boss is a bad idea. I figure it's even worse if there's a girl involved too."
"Some deep, dark secret from your past I need to hear about, Sanderson?" McCoy smirked, nudging him gently in the bicep.
"Not this time." Roach grinned, throwing a staged wink in her direction. "But if you ever feel generous enough to get plenty of beers down me, maybe I'll share it someday…"
In school, Lara McCoy had always been the gawky looking tall girl that towered over all her classmates and tried to keep to herself. She didn't like wearing her hair down or the cute frilly pink skirts that her mother would occasionally encourage her to wear. As a result, a small group of girls took an instant dislike to her, the most obvious being a red headed, rosy cheeked brat called Katie Strongham. For five years, Lara endured her teasing and jokes, avoiding Katie whenever she had the chance, until one innocent enough day in the school canteen. They'd been standing in line for macaroni cheese, Lara trapped behind Katie and her friends. Ordinarily, Lara would have tried to block them out, but this time their taunting wasn't directed at her. It was aimed at her brother, David and the fact that he'd just openly started dating a guy called Steve. McCoy hadn't heard everything that had been said, but the words "fag" and "queer" had most definitely been thrown around amongst loud, teasing giggles.
Something in Lara had snapped. She'd seen red and without thinking she'd reached for the closest thing to hand. Ten seconds later, Katie Strongham had found herself covered in an industrial container's worth of macaroni cheese.
This moment stood out in McCoy's life for two main reasons. At thirteen years old, it was the first time that she could really remember losing her temper and doing something completely and utterly reckless. Secondly, it was the only time that she had found herself stood outside the headmaster's office with nothing better to do than listen to the school receptionist relay what had happened to her father in an overly hushed tone over the phone. At the time, her dad's reaction was far scarier than anything she might have expected from her headmaster.
Now, fifteen years later, Bones could feel that dread once again dwelling in the pit of her stomach. It was the same result of doing something rash, of being forced to face up to her actions despite not really wanting to. Granted, the circumstances might have been completely different and far more complex than they'd been in school, but the emotion forcing her to just stand there motionless was exactly the same. Her conversation with Roach barely five minutes earlier might have filled her with courage then, but now, faced with the actual prospect of talking to MacTavish face to face, McCoy simply wanted to go run and hide.
Shaking her head, Lara silently told herself to grow the fuck up. She allowed herself a single deep breath before knocking loudly at MacTavish's door.
There was no answer. Confused, Lara brought her ear closer to the door and listened carefully. His office seemed to be totally silent. Cocking a curious eyebrow, she knocked again, fully aware that she was already beginning to lose her nerve. After all, it would be so easy not to confront MacTavish and to just go on wondering just exactly why he had chosen the night when they were both at their most vulnerable to come in and screw her mind over further…
"I don't think he's in." A sudden voice behind her made Lara jump and she spun round, her mouth more than likely still shaped in a very unattractive "O" as she found herself stood face to face with Soap. He looked surprisingly casual to how she was used to, his normal shirt replaced by a plain white tee shirt, the fabric clinging to the tops of his arms and pectorals. There were droplets of water caught within his short mess of hair, his skin slightly flushed as though he'd only just got out of the shower. "Do you stare intently at my door often?" He didn't bother trying to repress a smirk.
"I was looking for you." Bones admitted sheepishly.
"Then you found me." Nudging her aside, MacTavish moved towards his office door, unlocking it quickly and holding it open, silently asking her in. Accepting his invitation, Lara ducked past him and moved inside.
"I tried the rec room first." She started speaking as soon as the door was shut, the silence feeling all too tense and awkward for her to bear. Behind her she heard the door click again as MacTavish locked it, the added privacy giving her at least a small amount of comfort. "Thought you might be in there with the others."
"I'd been up since the crack of dawn, or what felt like it anyway. I decided that I should do something useful and at least put in some hours at the gym." He stepped past her, leaning against his desk. "I've never really been any good at just sitting around on my arse all day."
"You and me both." Lara laughed weakly. "Although I don't really think that any of us managed to sleep very soundly last night one way or another."
"Brazil's got everyone pretty shaken up." He folded his arms. "I guess we got complacent, but I'd take that any day over constantly expecting one of my friends to take a bullet."
"Expecting the worst never really makes anything better. Sure, it cushions the blow a little but the pain and loss is the same however it happens. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself."
"Yeah." MacTavish's eyes met hers deliberately, his features pensive. "How are you holding up?"
"I feel more… together." McCoy sighed, absently nursing her ponytail at the back of her head. She hadn't really expected him to allude to what they'd spoken about in the early hours of that morning and so his question instantly caught her off guard. "The guilt is still there along with everything else, but I'm more in control now." She forced a quick laugh, a last ditch attempt to prove her point. "I don't really make a habit of crying on my superior officers. Or crying at all if I can help it."
"Neither do I. Or if it's going to happen it's usually confined to my room. Or office." He stared at her intensely for a moment, his eyes so focused that Lara wasn't able to predict what he was about to say next. "But last night… it wasn't really about rank was it?"
Shit.
"No… I guess not." Her voice was already tailing off before she had really started and Lara faltered, memories of the kiss they'd shared flooding her thoughts. The images themselves were accompanied by a strange bombardment of other emotions. After all, Lara knew exactly what emotion she'd put into the kiss but as for MacTavish, as always he was impossible for her to read. Whether it had been pity, loneliness or something stronger still remained to be seen. Their conversation, usually so easy and fluid, suddenly felt strained and tense. Lara's reasoning was simple; she was terrified of hearing something that she didn't want to. "So we can talk then? Outside of rank?"
"Don't we always?" He let out a short, nervous laugh, just enough of a crack in his calm exterior to tell her that he was finding words as difficult as she was. It filled her with fresh courage. "Lara… What I said last night… I meant every word. The apology… everything."
"And the kiss?" She felt like an idiot as soon as the words left her mouth but there was no going back now. "Did you mean that too?"
"Lara…-"
"Just sodding answer me."
"Of course I did!" He gave her nothing short of an indignant look. "You weren't just some coping mechanism for me, alright? That wasn't what last night was about. It wasn't pity. I wouldn't do that to you."
"I know. But you can't blame me for thinking it. You said so yourself; you've pushed me away more than most. All those times you told me that you were broken, that you couldn't give me what I deserved, hell the last time we talked properly you told me that your loyalty to Riley would always be in the way." She was suddenly angry, stepping towards him in frustration. "I'm sorry, John. But what the hell was I supposed to think last night?"
"Christ…"MacTavish hissed, his voice pained and frustrated. "You too, eh? Is there anyone on this base who doesn't want my balls in a vice today?"
"Excuse me?" It was fair to say that Lara was taken completely off guard by MacTavish's reaction. She watched as he hung his head, more exasperated than angry, as though it weighed heavy on his shoulders. He exhaled loudly and McCoy softened. "What the hell have I missed?"
"Our orders came down from Shepherd." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "For what it's worth anyway."
"What can you tell me?"
"There's nothing to tell, I guess that's the point. In short? We're caught between fucking politics and a hard place here."
"Bollocks." It didn't take Lara long to realise his meaning. She bit her lip, taking another, more tentative step towards him. Her hand outstretched, she rested her palm against his right forearm, somehow hoping that the physical contact would give him a small amount of solace. She didn't pretend that she understood MacTavish fully, but McCoy was convinced that she knew him well enough to realise that the intel they had received from Rojas was the only thing that could even begin to justify the friends that they'd lost. With that justification gone, Lara could only begin to imagine how bitter and raw Meat and Royce's deaths now felt for MacTavish. "I hadn't even thought-..."
"Neither had I." The Captain shook his head. "To be honest, I don't know what's worse. The fact that my hands are tied or the fact that I didn't see this coming." Slowly, he raised his left hand and grazed it gently over where Lara's hand still rested on his arm, his fingers momentarily ghosting over her skin. He forced a weak smile. "I guess the gym didn't relax me as much as I thought it had."
"You're only human, right?" Lara smiled back, withdrawing her hand. She tilted her head to one side, suddenly feeling a little too self-conscious. "Maybe right now isn't a good time for me to be here…"
"I don't think I could tolerate anyone else right now." The blunt honesty of MacTavish's statement was enough to stop McCoy in her tracks. He reached for her left hand, taking a firm hold of it and stopping her from withdrawing any further. "And last night wasn't just some brief lapse in judgement, ok?"
"But after everything you've said?" Lara gave him a nigh on helpless look. "Come on, John. You have to realise that for me at least, last night was completely out of the blue."
"Everything I've said still applies. I'm no hypocrite, Lara, or at least I like to think that I'm not anyway. I can't pretend that what happened with Riley or my command doesn't matter anymore." He paused, lacing his fingers with hers. "But losing Meat and Royce… How can I pretend that it didn't remind me of just how bloody fragile life is? Of how short it is? How can I apologise for just wanting to be with you, in whatever small way I could be?" He laughed softly. "Like you said, I'm only human."
"But I don't want to be another mistake." His words felt as if they were washing over the top of her head, as though they were moving too quickly for her to be able to process them properly. "Not again."
"You never were. But how we both handled this? That was the mistake."
"Then how do we handle this now?" McCoy sighed, her eyes wide as she continued to stare at him. "Like you said, nothing's really changed. We still can't do right for doing wrong."
"And for once I'm not going to pretend that I have all the answers. If I did, none of this would have happened in the first place." His hand moved from hers and ghosted up her arm until it came to rest on the left side of her neck, his thumb cradling her jaw. "But when I apologised, it wasn't for how I pushed you away, it wasn't even for letting you genuinely believe that you were alone in all of this."
"Then what were you apologising for?"
"For being so bloody blind. I was sorry that it took the deaths of two of my friends to make me realise what I'd done. What I'd wasted." He watched her eyes carefully, his face as unsure as she felt. "I can't promise you any more than I could months ago, Lara. But I'm done with playing selfless. Life's just too fucking short."
For the first time in as long as she'd known him, Bones had simply run out of words.
She wasn't about to kiss him first like she had done less than 12 hours before. Instead Lara remained still, her eyes locked on his, almost as though she was daring him to make the first move, to prove to her everything he had said. For one, aching moment, it felt as though MacTavish might pull away from her again.
When his mouth did finally meet hers, the kiss was very different to the one that they had shared on the embankment the night before. Where they had been tentative before they were now more familiar, their mouths moving with a new sense of purpose. In the back of her head, Bones was painfully aware of the myriad of questions that were still left unanswered, of the jumbled words that she somehow needed to voice and yet had been rendered unable to. But right then, as MacTavish's hands cupped her face and with his mouth pressed so firmly against hers, Lara succumbed again to her own emotions.
The kiss was growing in intensity with each passing second and McCoy looped her arms around MacTavish's neck, her hands brushing against the still damp hair on the top of his head in the process. Soap's hands dropped down to her hips, pulling her even closer, his thumbs lightly digging into her hip bones, their pressure possessive. His lips gently nipped at her bottom lip, pulling at the skin in a quick movement and causing Lara to gasp softly into his mouth. A brief chuckle escaped Soap's lips before he kissed her again, his tongue pushing past her lips in a way that sent every nerve in her spinal cord tingling.
His hands were suddenly cupping the tops of her thighs, guiding her around so that she had her back to his desk. Without any other word, Lara was lifted up into the air, her legs instinctively curling around his waist as he carried her the short distance to his desk. The cacophony of crashes went practically unheard as Soap lowered Bones down onto the wood, his belongings haphazardly strewn out across the work top or rolling off onto the floor. Her legs still wrapped around his waist, Lara's hands slid down to his shoulders, her palms flat as they slid curiously along the firm muscle and bone they found there. From there, she pulled away from the kiss, only to dip her head and begin to kiss a long line down his throat, her mouth dwelling knowingly on the pulse point towards the base.
MacTavish let out a rough groan, his head rolling to one side to give her better access to his neck. His left hand moved up and held the back of her head as encouragement, his fingers gently wrapped around the base of her ponytail. His right hand however, began a slow and tormenting slide down her torso, his fingers deft as they reached the button fastenings of her fatigues. There was a split second of hesitation before Lara lifted her head, moving to kiss his lips again as Soap's fingers began to pull down the zipper.
From then on, as his fingers teased at the elastic of her underwear, Bones realised just how much she needed this. Just how much she'd needed him.
"Sir?"
A questioning yell from the other side of his door caused them both to freeze instantly, MacTavish's hand caught unceremoniously between Lara's legs. They didn't dare move or speak as the person knocked and called out again.
"Captain?"
"Shhh…" Grinning, MacTavish held his free hand to Lara's lips. Someone tried the handle of the door but the lock clicked instead and prevented them from getting any further. McCoy herself was caught somewhere between complete humiliation and total arousal, her heart hammering in her chest at the sudden intrusion. She could feel every rise and fall of Soap's chest against her as he breathed steadily, the heat from his body making her feel flushed. The close proximity of their bodies was maddening, her body desperate to continue what it had started. Instead it took all the willpower in the world just to stand there and simply listen.
"I feel like I'm back in bloody school." She didn't know how long they'd been frozen there, but MacTavish seemed to be satisfied that the intruder had left. He took a step backwards away from her, allowing her to jump down off of his desk. "Sneaking around with some girl and doing everything I'm not supposed to."
"Some girl, huh?" Lara laughed, nudging him in mock offense.
"You know what I mean." MacTavish hissed. He watched her desperately attempt to smooth out and refasten her clothes with amusement before continuing. "I guess I did get a little carried away that time."
"I think we both did." She tried to ignore the flush of blood to her cheeks as she lifted her hands to her ponytail, pulling it taut where Soap's fingers had loosened the hairband. "Might I suggest somewhere a little quieter next time though?"
"So you're counting on a next time, eh?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, now you're trying to play coy?" McCoy rolled her eyes, although she stepped towards him as she did so, looping her arms around his neck again. "Either way, you're not playing it very well."
"I was never all that good at acting." He nodded, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers again. It was only meant to be a quick, soft kiss and yet they both seemed to have trouble pulling away. "But on a more serious note, yeah, maybe you're right. Nothing like your dad yelling you from downstairs to kill the mood."
"I wouldn't know, I was a good, innocent girl." Pulling away from him, Lara gave him a mischievous, if slightly overenthusiastic wink. "Didn't bring a boy home until I was well over eighteen…"
"Suuuuure…" Soap laughed. "And did I mention that I was a proud, full blooded Englishman?" He watched her carefully for moment, waiting for her to stop laughing and fall silent again. "But Lara?"
"What?"
"Let's just… take this easy, ok?" He half shrugged, his left hand graduating to the back of his neck. "I mean… us. It is what it is, right?"
"I wasn't about to go scrawling Mrs Lara MacTavish all over my medical reports if that's what you mean." She quipped a little too quickly. "Mainly because your last name is just a little bit ridiculous."
"Lara-"
"Ok… Ok, I'll be serious. But I mean it; I'm not expecting miracles here. I haven't for a long time. I guess I'm just happy knowing that I'm not on my own, you know?" The lifted her arms inarticulately, once again the right words escaping her. "Just know that I don't expect anything from you, alright? I'm not really in a position where I can."
"Ok. But I damn well hope that I can give you a little bit more than that." MacTavish nodded, the smile fixed across his face and oddly genuine one. "For what it's worth anyway."
The walk back to the Infirmary should have been a surreal one, but for the first time McCoy felt more in control then she had in a long time. For once, the questions in her head were silenced, beaten, not entirely answered, but reassured enough to not form a constant murmur at the back of her thoughts. The grief was still there etched with pain and magnified by guilt, but it too seemed quieter, less alien. There was never going to be any real cure for the emotion aside from time, but at least for now Bones felt that little bit more at peace.
Through talking with Ozone and Roach, Lara had realised that she wasn't alone, that in some shape or form every member of the task force was reeling inside just like her. She'd seen how Nick had blamed himself for Royce's death on the CASEVAC bird and she had heard Gary admit himself that he felt partly responsible too. Somehow, that solidarity was comforting, in whatever twisted, strange way it could be.
When it came to MacTavish, there was no denying the human part of her that simply relished the human contact. It wasn't so much that it made her feel safe, rather that it gave her something to cling to when her mind reached its darkest places. The knowledge that Soap cared about her just as she cared for him gave McCoy hope. Hope that someday there might be more to her life than running, fighting and soldiering. It was something that might never come true in the future, but that wasn't important. If medicine and the military had only taught her one thing, it was the simple fact that hope was so much more than just a simple idea.
As for the future, Lara knew that there was little point in blind speculation. She would be thrown into situations that would test her resolve, both mental and physical. After all, that was what she had signed up for the day Captain Blake had come to her with her transfer papers to the 141. She'd known the risks even if she hadn't fully appreciated them back when she'd signed her attestation paper back in her early 20s, back in the days when she barely knew how to hold a rifle or assemble her kit. But even so, none of that really mattered. Now, there was only her job and the knowledge that whatever happened in the future, Lara would always have her 141 family to help her pick up the pieces. And somehow, even after everything they had already done and seen, that made it all seem possible.
Ok, so again I'm going to try and stop myself from rambling on here, but I can't end a chapter without the usual thank you for reading this far! It means so much to me to see that people have stuck with me and my writing for a year now. :) Speaking of writing, I regret to admit that my next update might be in just over a month's time as I have my end of year exams coming up in two weeks. That being said, I'm still going to try and write when I can. In the meantime though, feel free to leave me a review or message me! I don't bite honest ;). And if you're into tumblr, I check that bad boy every day and my ask box is always open if anyone fancies throwing random questions my way. I need something to keep me entertained during revision! :)
-x-Sass-x-
ht[]tp:[]/sassysatsuma.[]tumblr[].co[]m/ (Just take out the [] :D)
The music I was shamelessly humming to whilst writing CITS 25 was:
Polarized feat. Shaz Sparks – Seven Lions (I can't stop listening to this brilliant dubstep producer right now.)
White Blank Page – Mumford & Sons (One of my new Soap/Bones anthems)
A Future For The Krogan – Christopher Lennertz (Because I'm totally not obsessed with Mass Effect 3 right now... *whistle*)
Kiss Me – Ed Sheeran (Another shamless Soap/Bones anthem)
Renegade – xKore (Some heavier dubstep for those who are feeling it...)
Energie – Phace and Misanthrop (Some fantastic German darkstep)
White Knuckles - Alterbridge (In true soundtracking style, if CITS had end credits, I like to think this song and its lyrics would play over the rolling credits)