Chapter 37: Operation, GFTFOH
It was late. For once, Frost wasn't that tired. Although, he was still rather groggy from the morphine they were administering. Nurses kept assuring him in another day or two they could switch him non-narcotic pain medicine. Jasmine had stopped by a little while after Steele had departed to give him a few magazines to read. While he didn't read magazines that often-he found STARS' overt patriotism tended to lean too close to propaganda-he didn't mind taking a gander from time to time. Especially when he was laid up in a hospital bed-anything to alleviate the lonesomeness and boredom would do. Steele had been his constant companion throughout the day, as well as Jasmine. It was the first time since he had really woken up that he had been alone. Unfortunately, Jasmine's duties had grown. Planetside hospitals were becoming understaffed and as such they couldn't handle the amount of wounded they had, even several days after the battle. Being the dedicated officer and doctor she was, she had them transferred to the I'm Alone. In the few moments he had with her when she had given him the reading material, she had said the problem was that too many soldiers needed surgeries of varying kinds and there weren't enough surgeons with enough rest to carry them out. I'm Alone had plenty, so she had been in the operating room almost all day.
Frost admired her for that. Of all the medical professionals he had met, none compared to her. The way she commanded the staff was quite unique to him. Times would arise when a critical casualty arrived, and she would raise her voice and hammer out orders. But very often, she didn't really order people around. She merely expressed a wish and it was carried out. When he had told her this, Jasmine had blushed and said, 'Vivian can be like that sometimes.'
He had never seen Waters command on the bridge before. Sometimes he thought about going up there one day and watch how she ran things. If she was so fresh out of training and wracked up such a high kill count already, it would probably make for a good show. Anyone who knew their relationship however would tell him not intrude on her territory. Most likely, he would get a public chewing out until he left the bridge. To him, that seemed like a good bit of fun. Yet she had declared that truce, and he decided it was best to stay clear of her as best as he could. There was no need to jeopardize it; while Jasmine seemed quite content with it, he feared it was a fragile peace. A phrase he had come across long ago came to mind: a bad peace is worse than war. What would Tacitus have to say about their strange connection, Frost wondered.
The night was getting on. It was nearing eleven o'clock and the lights in the medical bay had been switched off. Most of the patients were asleep. Snoring was accompanied by a few coughs and moans. Some nurses remained in the bay, checking on some of the worse-off patients. None had come to check the poor fellow with the battered leg across from him. He found that odd, but didn't pay it too much mind. With a tiny reading light Jasmine had loaned him, he looked at the article in Time magazine Katz had written about his squad's actions. The caption underneath the famous photo of the dirty squad walking through the city streets read: Sergeant Frost and company after the all-night battle still manage to go for an early morning stroll with smiles on their faces.
Katz had written a good piece on them. He kept it short and respectful, making sure the limelight was evenly spread and not focused on him. Frost enjoyed reading it from time to time. To see his squad, his friends, finally get some praise for their endeavours was fulfilling for him. Often, their occupation felt thankless. Earth was covered in a cloud of propaganda and censorship, and knowing that a trickle of the truth had gotten through made him rest just a bit easier.
He heard the door at the far end of the medical bay. Frost looked up. It was dark in the bay; most of the figures on the beds and even the ones moving about were just shadows. The windows had a tint function that prevented the bright white lights of the hallway from creeping in too. At least five people walked in with a stretcher bed. One of them came ahead and the others waited. As the figure approached, Frost knew it was Jasmine.
Before he could say anything, her hand reached out and took the reading light. She shut it off and set it on the chair beside him, along with the magazine in his hand. She gently ran her hand through his hair, and then rested it on his forehead. Frost couldn't help but smile.
"Go to sleep," she whispered after a few moments.
"Okay," Frost whispered back.
Jasmine pulled his blanket up and tucked him in slightly. Frost didn't close his eyes. Something felt off. Laying on his back, he watched as Jasmine stepped back and gave a wave towards the group waiting near the entrance. The group, with the roller bed, came forward. When they got closer, Jasmine stepped across the aisle to the bed, where the young Army trooper with the injured leg resided. A hint of light coming through the window caught Jasmine's glasses for a moment, giving her a ghostly set of eyes. The roller stretcher was set up beside the cot and the blanket was taken off. The staff assembled around the bed and they all leaned down to pick up.
"No!" cried the soldier. "No! Don't take me in there! Please!"
The trooper began to trash around, flailing his arm and his good leg. Jasmine and her staff struggled to pick up. A pair of orderlies from across the room rushed over and began helping. The trooper let out a long, frightened scream as they put him on the stretcher and strapped him in.
Again, he began to holler. "Don't take my leg! Please don't!" They began to wheel him out. He was sobbing and screaming. "Mother!" he wailed. "Mother! Help me! God, help me! Mother!"
They finally wheeled him out of the door and it closed behind them. Frost watched, breathing heavily through his nose, as they came by the windows. No noise filtered in, but he could still see the young boy shaking in his straps, his mouth opening as he screamed, his tear-filled eyes wide with terror.
Frost was clutching the blanket with both hands. Slowly, he put his head back down on the pillow. But he didn't close his eyes. He didn't get any sleep that night.
###
The next day, around late-morning, Steele arrived with Moser and Langley. Frost thought about putting the matter off in exchange for some lighter conversation. But he wanted to deal with the issue now before some other disturbance boiled up.
It was good to see their faces-very good indeed.
"Hey," he greeted them tiredly. Moser sat in the chair while Langley sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on his forearm.
"You look good," she said.
"Do you feel alright?" Moser asked.
"I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night."
"Pain?" Steele asked, concerned.
"No. I'll tell you about it after. Think you can give us a couple minutes?"
"Yep, I'll go grab us some water."
Steele departed. Moser and Langley exchanged a cautious glance.
"What did you want to see us for?" Moser asked. Frost cleared his throat, rather uncomfortably.
"Nora, how's Bishop holding up? Steele's filled me in and things aren't looking so good."
Langley's face grew sad.
"It doesn't seem like he knows or even cares how bad he was the other night. Not even a thank you or anything. He hadn't said a word all day." She looked at her feet. "I'm really beginning to worry that he's angry at us or something. He hadn't looked me in the eye all day and just ignored me when I tried to talk to him."
Frost could see the hurt on her face and decided not press her with more questions. Instead, he turned his attention to Moser.
"You know that I'm not really a religious fellow, Dietrich..."
Moser chuckled.
"Most of the squad isn't," he said with a kind smile.
To say the majority of the squad was nonreligious was an understatement. Other than a few varying spiritual beliefs spread out between them, the squad members were atheists. Steele had once said that it wasn't so much that he didn't believe, more so that he didn't really care. A maxim echoed by most of the others. Atheism was on the rise across humanity. Many had their faith shaken from them when they saw entire planets glassed in a matter of minutes with millions still on the surface. After seeing something like that, an evacuee once told Frost, there was no way to believe in divine intervention. Others pondered why their God had also created a genocidal conglomerate of species hell-bent on wiping on humanity? To teach them a lesson? Check their growth in the galaxy? Why would he want to see humanity destroyed if they had been created in his own image? For Frost, however, what little spirituality he had was obliterated after what he had seen and done on Skopje. Even Moser had come close to cracking, wracked with so many of the same questions. The fact that after all he had witnessed he still possessed such a firm belief was something to be admired.
"Do you think you could try to get him to come with you to visit the padre next time you go?"
Moser gave him a surprised look.
"Bishop hates the padres. What makes you think that going to visit the ship's chapel will change anything?"
"I don't know. Maybe just going and hearing a few verses or talking to the padre, hell, something might help him. I'm worried he might not take too kindly to the idea of visiting Jasmine for a therapy session; it might make him feel stupid or weak."
"He hates that almost as much as the thought of anything religious," Moser chuckled. "Don't you remember what he did to the chaplain when we were still in training?"
Bishop's sole purpose for enlisting with the youth programs had been one of vengeance. Both of his parents had served and had been killed when he was a boy. With the death of the people closest to him, Bishop had to live with his wealthy uncle, who owned an old mansion outside of Glasgow. Already a reserved child, Bishop spent his life among books, Gothic architecture, and windy gardens, shunning a social life. Even his uncle was kept at an arm's-length; he refused to be called by his first name, Karl, insisting this was a name reserved for his parents. As Bishop had told them all once, he refused to believe in a God that would be so cruel to rip his parents from his life.
He carried that belief with him wherever he went. During their first year of training he hadn't gotten along with Moser, threatening to beat him once. Only through Teo's persistence and the hardships of training had Bishop been able to befriend Moser and cease his antagonism. Although, it didn't stop him from taking out his aggression on others. Once, when the chaplain had asked for Bishop in an attempt to make sense of his parents' loss, Bishop had dragged the poor man up to the roof to the top of their barracks and held him over the edge of the roof. Again, only through Teo's and Frost's insistence had he escaped a court martial.
Moser sighed.
"I think it would just be better if he saw the Doctor. If I or the chaplain tried to speak to him, it would probably just make him angrier than he already is."
"Yeah, you're right," Frost said, deflated. "I just wanted to consider the options."
"If you really want me to, I'll do it. I just don't think it'll end well. We may be on a ship of titanium but I know he'd find a way to make that room burn," Moser said with a little smile.
"Maddox may be an angry sort, but I honestly don't want to see Bishop when he's truly in a rage," Langley said.
"Trust me, you don't want to," Frost said. "I'm glad he saves it for the Covenant. Alright, thanks guys. Take care of yourselves and make sure you listen to Steele, alright?"
"Sure. He had us drilling early this morning. It was welcomed. Well, take it easy, brother," Moser said, leaning down and pressed his forehead against Frost's. "That was a brave thing you did. Stupid, but brave."
"Wouldn't have had to if you trigger-happy morons hadn't burned through your ammo." Moser left, laughing as he did. When he was gone, Langley stood over Frost for a moment.
"Do you think I should speak to Frank about therapy? He was clingy with me when we finally got him out of that blockhouse. There's a chance he might take the suggestion a bit better."
"Maybe. But I'd rather receive whatever anger's in there than have you bear the brunt if he blows up at the idea. Besides, I can make it an order if I have to, and he's never disobeyed an order."
"Okay. Get well soon, Sarge," Langley said, leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek.
"Ah, I'm not your sergeant anymore. Get outta here," He said, waving his hand. Langley laughed and left. Frost sighed. He had wanted to ask them to stay longer. He knew they would have stayed. But the last thing he wanted was for them to spend their post-battle free time sitting beside him in the hospital, still recuperating.
Steele walked up.
"Gone already?"
"Yeah. I don't want them seeing me all chewed up like this."
"Ah, you're getting better. Though I doubt we can go cruising for chicks with that scar on your face," Steele said, handing him a cup of water. They laughed. "What am I saying? You've got one now."
"Well, I mean..."
"What? You guys aren't a thing? I'd be really confused too after a woman kissed me half a hundred times too," Steele said sarcastically. "Come on, call her what she is."
"It'd feel childish to call ourselves a couple," Frost said, rather meekly, "like two teens or something. There's gotta be something more adult-sounding to call her."
"Who gives a fuck, mate?" Steele asked. "Do you see this war ending anytime soon? Come on, we're soldiers. You survive one battle, you're instantly living on borrowed time. We could die at any moment. A bloody Covenant fleet could jump into the system and blow up our ship. Whatever time we have, better make it count. Don't waste it on trying to find the right words, bruv."
Frost sighed.
"Have you ever had meaningful words with a woman before?"
Steele pretended to think for a moment.
"I've asked a girl which position she prefers before. Does that count?"
"You're a scumbag," Frost said with a smile. Steele held out his arms out, wide.
"Why thank you. I take that as a compliment." Steele downed his cup of water. "So what do you want to talk about?"
Frost took a deep breath and explained what had happened last night. How it had all seemed like some bad dream. The voice of screaming boy was still loud in his mind, like he was still in the medical bay. Since he had woken up, he had been particularly anxious and his nerves were shot.
"Being in here is suffocating now. I can't stand looking at all these poor bastards. It's not like when we're on the battlefield, where you have to focus. Here, it's right in your face. All this suffering...I can't stand it, man."
"You never minded hospitals before."
"Yeah, but I can't take this. I don't want to be here when the kid comes back missing one leg. I just don't want to be in here anymore, Louie. I couldn't sleep last night and every time somebody sounds like they're in pain I feel like freaking out." Frost paused for a moment. "You gotta get me out of here."
Steele blinked, obviously surprised.
"What? But the Doc doesn't want you on your feet yet. Another day or so, she said. Can't you stick it out for one more day?"
"I don't think I can. I'd rather be back in the barracks with you and the team. I need something to do. Lying here all day with a few magazines is driving me nuts. And seeing all these guys is making me real sick."
"Well, why don't we ask the Doc if she'll let you out early, or maybe move you somewhere more private? She'd understand what you're going through."
"I don't want to bug her, Lou. She's really busy. And I don't think I'd feel right in here," he tapped his thumb over his heart, "if I was hogging a private room that some bastard with his face burned off could be using. I just need to get out of here," Frost sighed. "I need to get out of here, man."
Steele nodded and stood up. Frost furrowed his brow, confused. "Where are you going?"
The sniper grinned.
"Commencing Operation: Get Frost The Fuck Outta Here."
Carris waited in the doorway as Steele went up to the counter of the pharmacy. The attendant was a second lieutenant who appeared to be in her mid twenties. She had black hair that came down to her jaw and dark eyes that burned like coals. Steele strolled up and placed an elbow on the counter.
"How can I help you, corporal?" asked the pharmacist. She was typing at her terminal behind the counter.
"Ah, I just need something for some headaches, Lieutenant..." Steele seemed to read the tag on her white lab coat. "...Srisati. Nothing fancy, just normal stuff."
"We have a selection of over-the-counter medication in front of the counter, as you can see," Srisati said, leaning over and pointing down. "Dr. Ebrahimi tries to eliminates the hassle of getting prescriptions for non-addictive medications for basic problems like headaches and the like."
"That's nice of her," Steele said, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning down to look at the different boxes of medication. "Pretty dead in here, huh lieutenant?"
"I suppose."
"Don't you usually have somebody else working in there with you, ma'am?"
"He's indisposed at the moment," Srisati answered.
"Why, what's up?" Steele asked, leaning on the counter again.
"Well, I really shouldn't say," she said with a shrug. Steele flashed a charming smile and Carris couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Come on, you can tell me. Just between us."
Srisati looked over her shoulder and leaned forward.
"Poor guy has irritable bowel syndrome. He's in and out all the time."
"Ooh, that blows."
"I know. I keep trying to tell him go see one of the docs but he doesn't want to. He's all self-conscious about it."
"Ah, who wouldn't be?"
"Well if I smelled the way he did when he comes out of the bathroom, I'd go see a doctor right away."
"He smells?"
"He takes like, toxic dumps."
"Man, I feel sorry for you."
"Ugh, tell me about it. Nobody else wants to change shifts with me, so I'm stuck with him. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy. But who would want to work with a guy who doesn't realize how stinky he is?"
"I don't think I would."
"Right. And he hardly ever says a word so all he does is sit here and let the smell fester. I don't think he even wipes."
"Man, sounds like you could use a break."
"Anything would be better than this."
"Well, the Captain got everyone shore leave. Maybe next time you're off you and I could hit one of the bars in the city."
"I'd kill for a good drink right now."
"When do you get off?"
"Oh I just started, I won't get off until evening"
"Well, I don't mind evening drinks if you don't."
Carris stepped away from the door as Langley and Moser approached.
"Maddox is going to mess around with the electronics nearby. He's going to cut the feed from the pharmacy security camera to the office for about one minute. How long will it take for you to hack the door, Carris?"
"Ten, fifteen seconds at the most." Carris had been forced to hack through doors on drydocked ships durings siege before to collect or destroy sensitive intel. She was used to it.
"Alright, we need to get a few syringes and a couple vials of morphine. Fentanyl isn't necessary for his recovery at this point," Langley explained. "The morphine will be in the fridge they have, most likely in the back. Carris, you hit the fridge, I'll grab everything we need for an IV."
"Are you sure morphine will be in there? Wouldn't it be with the other medical supplies?"
"The pharmacies act like storage units too, considering how much we need," Langley said. "Trust me, it'll be in there."
The trio looked down the hall, which was thankfully empty. Maddox had removed a panel with a few tools he had borrowed from a mechanic and was now fiddling with the wires. After a few deft movements with his good hand, he gave them a nod.
"Sixty seconds. Let's do this." Carris and the team rushed over, and after a few tricks, had the door open in twelve seconds. Moser stayed behind to keep watch while she and Langley quietly went in. Immediately, Carris went to the back where there were multiple fridges stacked on top of one another. Going by the labels, she looked for one that housed painkillers. She was counting down in her head. Forty-five, forty-four, forty-three...
Carris opened one of the fridges and spotted the vials. She took vials gently out of the fridge. They'd have to get something to store them in; perhaps the mess hall officer they knew was willing to give them a cooler and some ice. Quietly, she started making her way back through the rows and shelves of so many boxes and medical items. Langley slipped by her, holding a pack of syringes and needles, as well as a box of sterile cloths and a bottle of medicinal alcohol. Carris was about to follow when she looked back at the counter. Steele had leaned over and was holding a lock of Lieutenant Srisati's black hair.
"Man, your hair is really soft. And that shine. What do you use?"
"Nothing that isn't military issue. Honest! Don't look at me like that!"
"You gotta let me know; I mean, look at this mop of hair I've got." Srisati ran her hand through it. Carris frowned; something told her the act was going a little farther than he planned.
"Are you kidding? That's super soft. I should ask what you're using."
"Come on!" Langley hissed, taking her by the arm.
The pair quickly stepped out and Carris closed the door. Maddox put the panel back over the electrical wires and began heading back to the barracks. Steele walked out of the pharmacy as they passed by the door to the counter area.
"Alright, see you tonight," he said and joined them. "Got everything?"
"Yep," Langley said, slipping the items under her shirt. "Now we just have to get a crutch, and then get Frost out and back to the barracks.
"How're we going to manage that?"
"Maybe Steele can ask the clerk on a date too," Carris said, half-joking.
"Been awhile since I've had a threesome," Steele joked. Moser laughed while Langley wrinkled her nose and Carris burned, just a little, on the inside.
"Why are we doing this instead of asking Dr. Ebrahimi?"
"Because Frost asked me to get him out of there pronto, and that's what I'm gonna do," Steele said. "Why? Don't like stealing from the ship's medical supply?"
"No, no I don't," Carris muttered, "what if some other soldier needs that?"
"They'll be giving more to him anyways? Just think of this as his dose. Lighten up love."
"Steel, I think you're the only man alive who could get a date from a girl while talking about some poor bastard's shitting routines," Moser joked. Everyone laughed, except Carris.
Jasmine scrolled through her data pad, monitoring the vitals of all the patients in the medical bay. As she did, she headed towards Frost's bed. She had been unable to visit him all day and was eager to check on him before he ate his dinner. But as she approached, she was surprised to see that his vitals were not present on the list. At the same moment, she stopped at the foot of his bed, surprised to see it empty. For a few moments, she simply stared at the folded sheets and the magazines on the chair. Then, she looked around, seeing if he was up and around. But he was nowhere to be seen.
"Where did he go?" she asked aloud. Then she raised her voice, "Excuse me! Where did this patient go!?"
Everyone in the medical bay grew silent and looked her way. Jasmine stormed down the aisle and approached the clerk at the desk. "Where's Gunnery Sergeant Frost? He's not due to leave for another day and a half."
"Well, um, he was discharged this afternoon," answered the lieutenant, meekly.
"Discharged? On whose authority?"
"Um, well, yours?"
The other staffers had assembled around her. Jasmine, eyes wide with shock and frustration, looked around at the confused faces. For a few moments, she couldn't even say anything.
"No, I didn't. I didn't sign any discharge papers." She opened a tab on data pad and scrolled through. "But he's listed as discharged in the system. Why is my approval here when I didn't even give any?"
She looked around again. The orderlies and nurses looked at their shoes or the ceiling. "Anybody? Hm?"
"Well, one of his squad members came to pick him up. He told us that you said you had given your permission to discharge him."
"What?" she seethed. "And what made you think that it's okay to discharge somebody without any discharge papers signed by a doctor?"
Again, they were silent for a few moments.
"Well, we thought that, um...that because you and the sergeant are...involved...it would be alright if we just skipped a couple steps..." said the clerk.
Jasmine felt her shoulders sag for a moment at the sheer idiocy of it all.
"This is a military hospital!" she shouted then. "We don't skip steps! We do everything by the book to make sure we run efficiently!" She paused for a beat. "Did anybody even think to ask me if I gave my approval!?"
"I di-"
"Shut up!" she said, pointing at the nurse who spoke up. "We don't make exceptions here; this is the UNSC Navy, goddammit! Not even if I'm involved with a sergeant!" Jasmine turned bright red for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Did they take a roller stretcher? If they did, was it returned?"
"Um, no ma'am," said one of the male orderlies, "they walked out."
"Sergeant Frost shouldn't be walking without a crutch."
"Well, I got him one."
"You gave him a crutch without authorization? That's UNSC medical material, items that are distributed and then collected. And what made you think it was okay to just give it away without my permission?"
"The guy who came and got him gave me five hundred credits..."
"Well, glad to see you're not above taking a bribe," Jasmine said drly. "Who came and got him?"
"His second in command; the handsome English guy with the blonde hair and mustache," said one of the other nurses. Jasmine turned and stormed out.
"You're lucky I don't demote all of you!" she yelled over her shoulder. She made it through the door, stopped, and poked her head back in. "I hand-picked all of you, for God's sake!"
With great speed and ferocity, she marched through the corridors of the I'm Alone. She passed Marines and sailors and airmen, all of who stepped aside and saluted as she passed by. Nobody tried to speak to her. Some even seemed nervous. When she got to the barracks, she didn't even knock. She opened the door and walked straight in. Sitting around Frost's bed was his entire squad. Most of them were smoking and they were all laughing. Frost was sitting on his bed with a crutch across his lap.
All of their faces turned white as they saw her.
"Ah, shit."
"The mission's been compromised!" Grant yelled. "Fine cover! Plan B!"
"What do you think you're doing!?" she shouted. "You should be in your bed at the infirmary! You need medical supervision, somebody to monitor your vitals and to administer your pain medication. What if something went wrong? What if your blood pressure dropped? What if one of your stitchings came undone? Do any of you have any advanced medical training!?"
All of them exchanged nervous glances. Langley coughed and raised her hand. Jasmine pointed at her. "You! You were a PJ! A Pararescueman! You got some of the best field medical training there is!"
"Well I never finished-"
"And you let all of these oafs just waltz in and take a wounded man from the hospital!? Where there's no medicine readily available!?"
"Well," Steele interrupted, "we did take a little pain medicine."
"How did you get any without a prescription from a doctor?"
The squad was silent. Jasmine raised her eyebrows. "Oh no, no you didn't. Don't tell me you stole some..."
"We stole some morphine..."
"Goddammit!" Jasmine shouted, balling her hands into fists and stamping one of her feet on the ground. "You did it! You actually did it! Where is it?"
Grant went over to a nightstand where a cooler filled with ice was, and handed her the vials, as well as the other medical items they had taken, including alcohol, white cloths, and a package of syringes and needles. He gingerly held them out to her, keeping himself withdrawn, as if he were expecting her to hit him. Jasmine snatched it from his hand and he rushed back over to sit with the others. "How did you even take this without getting caught?"
"A little bit of charm on my part, a little bit of technical expertise on Maddox's part, and some quick fingers on Carris's part," Steele explained, rather triumphantly, putting an arm around Carris's shoulders. "Add in a little money, and Operation: GFTFOH was a success. Well, until you showed up."
"I'm ashamed of all of you. You broken military law and countless other regulations, you've brought shame to yourselves, your unit, and the UNSC! Most grievously, you put Frost at risky by moving a recent surgery patient out of a medical setting. I ought to turn you over to Holst right now! Be thankful that I'll be directing my disciplinarian actions to my staff. Now get out, I need to speak with Nathaniel."
"But this is our-"
"Out!"
Everyone quickly jumped to their feet, marching single file by her and through the door. Jasmine watched them set off. "And put out your cigarettes! In case you didn't pay attention in health class, smoking's bad for your health!"
"But I never went to healthy class!" somebody said in a snarky tone.
"For Christ's sake, we're in a pressurized cabin!" Jasmine yelled at them.
"See? I told you," Langley said to the others.
"Shut up, Nora!" came the chorus.
The door slid shut behind them. Jasmine stared at Frost, and he stared at her. He smiled faintly. Jasmine did not reciprocate.
"Hi, Jasmine," he said. "Sorry about all this."
"What were you thinking, letting them take you like that?"
"Don't be angry with them. I asked them to get me out of there."
Jasmine was surprised.
"What? Why? Did something happen?"
"Yeah. I just couldn't be in there anymore Jas. I need to be back with my friends, or at least away from the infirmary. Seeing all those men and women in there, wounded, torn up, bloody, moaning, I couldn't take it anymore, not after last night when you had to wheel that wounded soldier out of there, screaming for his mom."
Frost visibly shuddered. "I used to be comfortable in hospitals, but that really shook me up Jas. I asked them to get me out because I knew you wouldn't let me leave."
"Why didn't you tell me? I would have tried to get you better accommodations. I would have done everything to make you more comfortable there. I could have done something if you just told me."
"You were busy and I was worried you wouldn't be able to, Jas. I should have listened to Steele, he said you'd be understanding on the matter. But you weren't around and I didn't know when you were going to come by again. I just had to get out. Being in there felt like I was drowning."
"I do understand," Jasmine set the items down and sat beside him, putting her hand on his. "Being in there is hard for everyone. And I wished you hadn't been there when we had to take that boy out. There was just no way of saving his leg. You could see how bad it was, even under all the bandages. He wasn't going to have anymore function. A robotic prosthetic is the only thing for him." Jasmine sighed. "I know it's hard. You don't spend time in there like me and the staff does. It can destroy your nerves. I would have tried to get you a private room. We're pretty full up but I'm sure I could have worked something out." She sighed. "Look, I don't mean to scold, but you know better. Thievery and bribery can not be tolerated and should be punished. You know that."
Frost chuckled.
"Colonel Hayes says thieving from other branches is a glorious tradition of all Marines. If we don't have it, steal it." Jasmine maintained a disapproving frown, which disarmed the nervous smile on Frost's face. "Yes, I know."
"You're an elite squad, part of an elite force, in the largest, deadliest, most capable military organization in human history. You've maintained the part well-don't act up now." She paused, rubbing her forehead. "I'm letting it go because I know these few days were hard for your squad. If it happens again, I won't be so lenient. Be sure to explain that to your squad."
"I will."
"This is the military Nathaniel, not a boarding school. You know that."
"Yes, I do."
Jasmine, having said her piece and cooled off, smoothed her lab coat.
"Now, let's see about finding your better accommodations. If you can wait a little longer a private room should be freed up in the next five or six-"
"I just don't want to be anywhere near it, Jasmine. Please. Can't I stay here?"
"I'm sorry, Nathaniel, I'm just not comfortable with you staying here."
"Why?"
"Your squad is unfocused at the moment, even with Steele at the helm. And after today I don't particularly trust them," she said this quite huffily. "You'd be safer on your own than with them."
"Well I beg to differ..."
"You're in no position to differ, Nathaniel."
"Alright, alright."
"You need to be somewhere you can rest, undisturbed, and some kind of monitoring system."
"Nora's a PJ."
"You heard her; she never finished. I won't have somebody who didn't finish their medical training looking after you. I don't care how far she got; I'm not taking any chances with you."
Jasmine thought for a moment. "You'll stay with me in the office." Frost laughed.
"Where will you sleep if I'm on your couch? Sleeping in a chair will make you ache something fierce."
"My room, then"
"Didn't you loan that to Katz?"
"Right, I did."
Frost nodded his head to the side, thinking. Jasmine studied for a moment. Then, he smiled at her.
"Wow, this is really great. Thanks for letting me bunk with your squad, Gunny," Katz said as he walked out of Jasmine's room with his duffel bag. "The sheets are clean, I washed them earlier today."
"Thank you for letting us use it," Jasmine said as Frost crutched in. Steele was nearby, holding a box filled with clothes, books, and other items they had taken from Jasmine's office.
"Yes, thank you, Katz," he seethed. "Can't wait to start sharing a room with ya, matey."
"Oh, no need. It's your room after all. It'll be awesome," Katz said, responding to Jasmine, "this'll help me with my work so much. I can learn jargon and all of that stuff. It'll add a nice edge to my work."
"I'm so happy for you," Steele said through clenched teeth.
Frost sat down on the bed, doing his best to not to laugh. Jasmine walked in with another box, and Steele set his down. He had to hand to his companion, he was being very courteous. Steele helped Jasmine unpack the two boxes, putting away extra clothes, putting books in order on the shelf, setting up her workspace on the desk across from the bed. At first, he asked her where to put every item she had. Then he started placing things by himself, setting up her desk in a very orderly and rather stylish fashion.
It was a fairly simple room, smaller than he imagined. It had a desk with a few cupboards overhead, a dresser beside it, a secured chair for the desk. A door to the left of the desk led to the bathroom. Across from the bed, pressed up against the wall, was the bed. It was larger than the one in his own quarters but just as soft. It had a white pillow and olive drab blankets. Other than that, there was a bookcase on the wall opposite from the bathroom wall. The door to the room was near the end of the bed.
Once they were settled, and the room appeared halfway decent, Steele and Jasmine looked at their handiwork.
"Thank you, Corporal," she said. "You might have a promising post-war career as an interior designer."
"Pfft. You guys could use a plant," he shrugged, "hell, we could use a plant. Can we get a plant for the barracks?"
"I don't see why not, as long as you can find some way to keep it from flying all over the place during orbital engagements. The last thing I want to see is potted soil all over our bed sheets," Frost said.
"Mhm. Well, I'm off. I've got a date tonight."
"A date? With who?"
"Little thing, name of Srisati. The girl at the pharmacy. Going out for drinks. You think I'm gonna stand her up? I've got more class than that," Steele said with a wave of his hand. Jasmine chuckled.
"Lina Srisati? I'm surprised she gave into your...charms, Corporal," Jasmine said, making Frost snicker. Steele didn't seem to notice.
"Well, I'm a charming guy, Doc. More than this fella right here. Either way, it's just for a couple drinks and...I dunno, we'll see where that goes," Steele said with a playful grin as he walked out the door.
"I left you in charge though!" Frost shouted after him.
"Carris has got it!"
"Lou!"
"Gooooodbyeeee Nate-boy!"
The door shut. Frost sighed and looked at Jasmine.
"So, how is this better? I'm all by myself."
"Not necessarily. My quarters are closer to the medical bay than your own. I insisted that they be when the ship was undergoing its retrofits. Plus, I'm going to bring some equipment in here; give you an IV, give you a monitor that I'll sync with my work data pad. I'm leaving you my personal data pad; if you need anything, don't hesitate to send a message. I'm going to check your vitals every thirty minutes and if I see anything irregular I'm either going to send someone or come straight over. If something starts to happen; a change in heart rate for instance, it'll notify me automatically. It'll be like having somebody here with you. I don't want to see your heartbeat exceeding one hundred forty beats per minute, understand?"
Frost nodded. "Good. I'll bring you all your meals and help you wash. Can you manage going to the bathroom by yourself?"
"I'm pretty sure I can."
"Alright. I'm trusting you."
When Jasmine returned she brought a rolling metal stand with an IV bag attached to it. Skillfully, she placed an IV into his right forearm.
"Do I really need morphine?" Frost asked. "It makes me feel like crap."
"I'd rather you feel like crap than be in pain," Jasmine said with a smile. "Don't worry. I'm giving you a smaller dose and if don't experience much pain, I'll switch you to something that'll make you less groggy first-thing tomorrow. How's that sound?"
"Much better." Jasmine stood up but Frost took her hand. "Thanks for taking care of me. I'm sorry I caused you trouble. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Jasmine smiled sweetly and put a hand on his cheek.
"Just behave, okay? And be honest with me about your pain."
She went over to the bookcase. "Try to sleep but if you get bored, I hope you don't mind some heavy reading. I mostly have medical texts. One of mine is in there. You know, if you...want to take a look," Jasmine blushed a little. Frost smiled as she set them down on the nightstand at the head of the bed.
"I'd love to."
Jasmine went to the door, pushing up her glasses as she did.
"My shift ends in two hours. I'm going to take an hour for shore leave to run a few errands. I'll be back around twenty-one hundred hours. I'm going to ask one of the other doctors on their shift to keep an eye on your vitals. Is that alright with you?"
Frost shrugged.
"Do what you want. I'm not the boss of you."
"Just making sure."
"Jas, you sure you're okay with me staying here?" Frost asked. "I mean, I can't take your bed like this while you sleep in the office."
"Who said I was staying at the office?" Jasmine said with a shy grin. "I would...sleep beside you. If that's alright with you."
Frost found himself blushing.
"If you want," he said with a sheepish smile. "I mean, if you're comfortable, that is."
"I am if you are."
"Sure I am."
"Okay," Jasmine said, "I'll see you soon, I promise."
It was a little after eight o'clock that night. Steele walked back to the barracks inside the I'm Alone. The date had gone a little faster than he had expected. Two drinks for him, one for her, and they had ended up in a rather nice hotel. Neither of them even had to get buzzed. She had left before him, leaving a note saying she had a good time. Of course, he knew what that meant: it was a one time deal. Not the first time he had gotten that kind of note. Nor did he mind. It was less expensive than visiting one of the clandestine whorehouses, which were in plentiful supply. With his trained eye, he had spotted at least three cathouses on his way to the bar with her, and two more on his way back. At least he woken early and hadn't spent all night there.
With a cigarette clenched between his lips, he strolled leisurely through the halls, earning odd looks from seamen and marines alike. Under each arm was an brown-orange pot filled with brown soil, and a single sunflower sticking out from it. The petals were a vibrant yellow at the ends and a deep orange at the base. Hopefully, it would break up the visual monotony of four silver walls. The other was for Frost; he would like something a little color. Steele could still remember when Frost told him all those years ago of his family's ranch house with its extensive flower beds. More so, he hoped Carris would like the sunflower he got for their room. The thought nagged him incessantly as he walked through the corridors of the ship. Did she like sunflowers? Were flowers even her thing? Did she have a preference? He might as well have gotten her a new gas chamber and scope for her modded assault rifle.
Strolling back into the room, he found the squad. They seemed to be in a better state. The little operation yesterday had gotten them back into good spirits. Maddox still wanted nothing to do with him and Carris, which was evident with the disdainful glare he gave when Steele waltzed in. Bishop was gone.
"Evening all," he said, "everybody already grab dinner?"
"You're on your own tonight," Knight answered, disinterestedly.
"You're seriously going to make me eat dinner alone? You know I hate that," Steele said with a mocking smile as he set the sunflower pot for Frost and Jasmine down on the nearest stand. He held the other with both hands.
"I was talking about her," Knight said, nodding towards Carris, who was sitting on Steele's bed with her arms folded across her chest. Steele grimaced.
"Hey love, keeping it warm for me?" Christ, that was the wrong thing to say to a woman sitting on your bed, Lou.
"You are one of the most un-soldierly men I have ever met," Carris said. "Frost is wounded and leaves you in charge, and you bail to have a one night stand?"
"Hey, you're learning your terminology, love!" Steele said enthusiastically. His attempt at humor only increased her frown. "Er, it wasn't really a one night stand. More like a two hour stand."
"What would he say?"
"Uh..."
"Don't you think he'd be disappointed?"
"He didn't mind when I left earlier."
"Well he should. He's slated you for a promotion to sergeant, putting you in charge of this squad, and you're out drinking and fooling around with officers."
"Well you make it sound like a bad thing," Steele said, "usually one of the guys gives me a high five. And that's not all I was doing," he said, holding up the potted plant. "See? I got us a plant."
"You can't keep this behavior up if you want to be a sergeant," Carris said angrily, rising to her feet.
"But I got us a plant..." Steele said.
"You probably stole it," she said.
"What? No way!" Steele defended. Knight snorted.
"What florist is open at this time of night?"
"One that doesn't lock its doors," Steele muttered. Carris let out an irritated groan. Steele let out an aggravated sigh. "Look, I didn't do that much drinking tonight."
"Then what's this?" Carris said. She reached around him, pulled up the back of his shirt, and retrieved a bottle of whiskey that had been in the back of his pants. She held it in front of him. Steele blinked.
"That, I paid for."
"Really?" Carris asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Well, no."
"Corporal, Frost may allow for such antics but I won't, because-"
"Because I'm better than that. Yeah, yeah, love, you gave me this whole speech before. Have I gone fooling around with whores since then? No, I haven't. So now, apparently, I can't even have a, a, a-"
"Late night triste?" Moser suggested.
"Yeah whatever that is," Steele said. "What do you want me to do, cut my balls off?"
"I want you to start acting like the soldier you really are."
"Ugh, bite me, Carris. You ain't my fuckin' boss. Frost may buy into military mumbo-jumbo like that but I don't. If he wants to make me a sergeant, fine. If he wants to keep me a corporal, fine. I don't even want to be a sergeant. But if I do, I'm not going to become some saluting, marching, 'yes, sir,' NCO. If I want to get laid, then I'm going to get laid. If I want to go drinking, I can go fucking drinking. If I want to get us a fucking plant after business hours, then I'm getting us a fucking plant!" Steele shouted, feeling angry and stupid at the same time. He went over to the stand between his and Carris's cots and set the sunflower pot on it, hard. He whirled around."You're welcome!"
"You're ridiculous," Carris muttered.
"Oh, I'm ridiculous!?" Steele shouted. "Who helped me steal fuckin' morphine from the medical bay today? Who stood by while I bribed, flirted, and fucked my way to get my pal out of the hospital? You seemed okay with it then! How about you remember you took part in a scheme too before you go criticizing me for petty thievery!"
Carris said nothing then. Red in the face, she shoved past him and went out the door. Steele stood there for a moment, before whirling around and sticking his head out the door.
"Hey!" Carris stopped. "You're not my fucking wife, woman! I'm a grown man and I can do whatever the hell I want! If you don't like it, then tough shit! I don't need your sermons!"
Carris, head down, hands balled into fists, slowly walked off. Steele stepped back in the room, straightening his shirt and taking a breath. "Fuckin' nerve, eh lads?"
Everybody looked at him with indifferent expressions. Steele threw up his arms, "Oh, come on. Nobody's going to have my side on this? Pfft, 'you're on your own tonight,' what a crock of shit, Knight. You never have my back."
Knight only shrugged.
"About time somebody started to whip you into shape."
Langley got to her feet, and grabbing her own and Carris's overshirt.
"You're such an asshole," she said as she brushed by him.
"Oh dear Heavens!" Steele yelled, "One naughty word all year! I must really be in trouble."
Langley jogged up to Carris, who was heading towards the mess hall.
"Hey, put the brakes on, C," she said. Carris stopped and turned to face her.
"Why is he like that? Frost tries to promote him and he just messes about. Why is this all a joke to him?"
Unsure of how to answer, Langley offered her a smile.
"Come on, there's still some night left. Why don't we go out?"
"And do what?"
"Well, I've got some of my back pay. We didn't exactly have a typical Christmas. Let's get everyone something nice. New Year's in a couple days, so why don't we hand them out then?"
Carris didn't say anything for a moment. She seemed uncomfortable. Langley grinned, and gave her a friendly elbow. "We don't have to get Steele anything."
"Alright."
###
After zipping up their overshirts, they headed out into the city. It was a pleasant night. The air was warm and there were people crowding the sidewalks. Langley enjoyed the atmosphere; voices buzzing, laughter, music, lights. To many, seeing so many people after a siege acting like nothing happened would have been strange. Yet she saw it was another victory in itself. Not even war could keep humans from acting like humans. Couples held hands, parents took their children to the movies, friends made toasts in bars. People stopped them every few moments to shake their hands and express their thanks. A few even recognized their faces from the article Katz had written and asked if they could take pictures. Carris was apprehensive at first but after the first few teenagers, she was smiling to the camera like a pro. A pair of young bows came up to them with a flower. Accepting the two little pink flowers, Langley put hers in her hair while Carris tucked hers into the pocket over her overshirt. Langley was glad to see her in a better mood already.
Even a blind person could tell that she and Steele had a close friendship. When Carris had first joined them, her reserved nature had been off-putting to everybody. With the team's talkative disposition, it didn't take too long for her to fit in. Well, she still had some fitting in to do. There were still some unanswered questions Langley was curious about, but she had decided those could wait until another time. Or perhaps she could broach the subject from a different direction. Either way, Steele had been the first to really accept her. Joking with her, getting drunk with her; granted the latter wasn't an option Langley would have personally used to make friends but she had long accepted that Steele was of another sort than her. For Carris, being among so many outside of her unit must have been a culture shock. Steele was her bridge of understand, a pillar of support, there to explain the confusing, ease the stressful matters. In a way, she looked for him for guidance, but she saw something no one else seemed to see. Potential. As harsh as it sounded, Langley didn't particularly see him as leadership material. The others would definitely have more faith, and after what they had been through thus far, she would too in the end. He had gotten them occupied the other night, taking care of Bishop, rather than just sitting there and watching events unfold like a trainwreck. Taking care of a friend was much different from leading troops into battle, however.
Carris, as different as she was, was rigidly military: a vast understatement. Despite her separation from the common troops, the rank and file, there was still pride in her. The confidence in the way she moved, the way she fought, the way she spoke to officers; she could have been a poster-child for the UNSC. No questions asked, no qualms about orders, willing to put her life on the line. If Frost had allowed her to charge the enemy a few days ago, she would have come through unscathed most likely. Instead, the damned fool refused her and carried out the act himself. Would Steele have rushed out there to defend Nebiyev and Sánchez? Honestly, Langley couldn't decide. At the Battle of Camp Havens, Steele had been the first one out of the natural trench, bounding after Frost. Maybe he'd do it for a squad mate, not for others though. Who knew?
The pair found a mall and entered. Langley was rather surprised to see that it wasn't ransacked. Usually, throngs of civilians swarmed centers such as this, taking whatever food, water, medicine, clothing, and other materials they could get their hands on. Reports stated that the initial Covenant orbital bombardments were focused on military positions rather than the city itself. Perhaps that had something to do with the lack of carnage.
Lots of civilians were milling around inside. Langley couldn't remember the last time she had been inside a mall. The bright white lights reminded her of the inside of a starship. Stores line either side. Together, they began visiting each store, trying to pick out gifts. As they passed through a clothing store, Langley had to laugh at Carris as she looked at some of the women's wear.
"If you wore that dress, it'd show off all your muscles. You'd put all of the Marines on board to shame," she said.
Carris lifted the skirt of a yellow sundress and raised an eyebrow. Langley smiled. "Yellow would look good on you. I think it'd go well with your hair."
"My hair is black."
"The contrast would make both colors pop," Langley said. "Do you want it?"
"I don't think it comes in my size."
"We could check."
"That's alright. I don't want anything."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
Langley kept walking, looking at the different dresses for her own amusement. "I used to hate wearing dresses as a kid. When I got a bit older I didn't mind so much. If you get just the right one, it'll be comfortable, it'll keep you cool in warm weather, and it'll look really friggin' cool when you spin around," Langley said, trying to make Carris laugh. "My brothers used to tease me about wearing them."
"I didn't know you had any brothers."
"Oh, I've got five of'em," Langley said, pretending to be exasperated. "And they all have German names. My mom's German and my dad's English; mom got to name all the boys, and dad got to name all the girls. And there's only one girl, so I'm the only one with an English first name. Oldest to youngest, my brothers are Erich, Gunter, Kilian, Paul, and Tilo; he's named after the saint."
"Must be hard growing up with so many brothers and no sisters."
"Not much different from now actually," Langley said with a laugh, "Instead of living with five boys I'm living with seven. At least I have another girl with me this time."
"You don't count your mom?"
"My mom's my mom. I always wished I had a sister."
Langley missed her family then. Her rough and rowdy brothers-constantly messing with her room, making a ruckus, getting into trouble and trying to blame it on her. At the time it had been truly aggravating. Now, she missed it terribly. Hopefully, they'd all stay at home and finish their education. The last thing she wanted was to get a letter explaining that one of them had dropped out to enlist. That would put her on edge.
She cleared her throat. "Were you close with the others in your unit?"
"We grew up together. We were close but I don't think it was close the way you mean."
"In what way then?"
"Well, we didn't have anyone else. Not much of a choice but band together. Band together, or die."
"Some upbringing..." Langley remarked.
"It was...a hard life. We couldn't break. We kept each other from falling apart. For a while, anyway."
"Did something happen?"
Carris grimaced, and a dark look came over her blue eyes.
"One day, many of my friends died. Some of us survived, others became invalids. It was a...necessary event...that none of us could prepare for."
Langley frowned.
"How can something that claimed children's lives be necessary?"
Carris blinked.
"It made those of us who survived much stronger."
"That's not really what I meant," Langley said with a sigh. Carris shrugged.
"That's the only way I can put it. If they had survived, they'd be stronger too."
"Strength isn't everything, Carris."
Carris was about to speak when something caught her eye.
"Is that Doctor Ebrahimi?"
Langley turned around was surprised to see the doctor in another section of the department store.
"It is. Why don't we go say hi?"
The two walked over as Jasmine mulled through different sized socks. "Hey, Doc." Jasmine turned around, a little jolted, and smile.
"Oh, hello. What are you doing here?"
"Just a little late Christmas shopping," Langley said. "Me and Carris decided to have the night to ourselves. You?"
"Me too," Jasmine said, somewhat shyly. Langley smiled; she knew who she was shopping for.
"Care to join us?"
"Sure."
The three walked through the store, silent at first. Jasmine was the first to break the ice. "I have to get him two presents. One for his birthday, one for Christmas. I'm not even sure what he likes. I've been drifting around here trying to figure something out."
"Well I don't know his dress size," Langley joked. "He's a soldier, Doctor. Soldiers like simple things; like a bar of chocolate or a grenade."
"I think he has plenty of those already," Jasmine chuckled.
"You can never have enough grenades," Carris said with a smirk.
"Does he have a watch?" Jasmine said. "My mom once got my father a watch for his birthday. He wears it every single day."
"Frost has a military watch. Hm. He does enjoy music. His current player is a little old and dinged up. "
Jasmine's eye widened a little. She smiled.
"I've got it. Thank you!" She exclaimed, and hurried off.
Carris and Langley walked out together, both confused but smiling.
"Doc Jasmine always seems so...grown up. It's easy to forget she's just a few years older than I am," Langley said.
"What do you think she's getting for Frost?"
"Dunno," Langley said with a smile. "Come on, we have to remember to get wrapping paper. I'm going to have to teach you how to do it."
"What's the point of wrapping things up in paper if they're just going to tear it up?"
"You just don't want to learn how to, do you?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Because none of my siblings ever wanted to learn either."
"Well, I just wanted to say I appreciate it."
"Don't worry about it, Nebiyev," Frost said. Sergeant Nebiyev, still recovering from his own wounds, had come to visit Frost in Jasmine's quarters. He was standing respectfully a few feet from the door, his head somewhat bowed. "You should be thanking Sánchez. He's the one who stopped to drag you."
"Yeah. Who knew he had it in him. I thought he'd leave me there after how I treated him. Guess I was wrong. Kid has some balls to stop in the middle of a firefight just to grab my fatass."
Nebiyev, standing on a crutch of his own, let out a heavy sigh. "I treated the boy like shit."
"Might be a good idea to apologize."
"I have, but I dunno if it's enough." Nebiyev said. He had heavy eyes and a large Slavic face. His dark brown beard had become rather raggedy and his coarse hair messy. "You got one of those radio ops too. She seemed to fit in well."
"Nora Langley's tough. She doesn't take any shit. To look at her you'd think she had fought with us for years."
"I remember when she stormed up to us in the mess hall. Looked like she was ready to knock my lights out."
"She was."
Nebiyev smiled a little.
"Yeah, she seems like a good kid. Sánchez too. Hard taking on new people though. I know they mean well, but...God, I just can't stand seeing them get killed. We've lost a lot already."
"Too right."
Nebiyev looked at the wall for a moment with a forlorn look. Frost had seen it many times before in thousands of faces. A survivor's look, pondering the fates of so many lost friends. Everyone in the 89th had lost somebody. There wasn't one man that Frost couldn't consider a friend and he could still see all of their faces and remember their names. To imagine them gone, all gone, some never recovered, never shipped home to their families, hurt him. Dwelling was not something they could do.
"Well, I don't mean to come in and dampen the mood. Spirits are high for the most part. A lot of the guys are a bit worried about you."
"Oh, I'm fine. I've got a five star hotel room," Frost said, holding out his arms. Nebiyev grinned.
"Enlisted men ain't supposed to fraternize with officers like that. You ought to keep your hand holding and...other activities...out of sight."
"Thanks for the advice, Neb," Frost said sarcastically.
"I'll let the guys know you're doing alright. Thanks again for doing what you did." Nebiyev opened the door but stopped. "By the way, we finally got a war name for Sánchez."
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Dirty Sánchez," Nebiyev answered with a cheeky smile, and finally departed, cackling as he did. Frost shook his head and smiled. But before the door closed Steele stormed in, holding a potted sunflower. Fury clouded his face. Steele set it down roughly on the desk.
"Whoa, Lou, what's-"
"I got you a plant. Merry-fuckin'-Christmas," Steele said, wheeling around and marching back out.
Frost sat there for a moment, wide-eyed and confused. He looked over at the plant as the door slid closed. Putting his weight on the crutch, he got up and went over to the desk. For a while, he simply stared at it. A smile tugged at his lips and he felt one of the petals. Closing his eyes, his mind wandered back to the ranch house, the smell of horse hide, hay, and manure on the east wind, beaten off by scents of spices from the open kitchen window, mixing with the sweet aroma of the flower beds around the entire house. Reds, yellows, blues, whites; he could see them all as if they were before. Frost walked in between the flower beds, walking around the whole house, looking at the wisteria on the chimney, and the vines hanging off the trellis on either end of the porch. Home.
The door opened behind him and Frost quickly wiped his eyes. When he turned around, he found Jasmine standing there, holding a bag in either hand. Her hair looked a little windswept and she seemed excited.
"I'm back. I come bearing gifts."
"Gifts?"
"For you!"
"You didn't have to do that," Frost said bashfully. Jasmine set the bags down near the beg and took a moment to take off her shoes.
"I'm sorry nothing's wrapped," she said as she reached into one. "The first one's nothing special. But I got you some normal clothes."
"Normal clothes?" Frost asked, confused. "Fatigues aren't normal?"
"Oh, you know what I mean. Civilian clothes. I doubt you have any that still fit."
"You'd be right."
Jasmine handed him a pair of folded jeans with the tags still on them, a gray t-shirt, along with a brown workman's jacket. "If they don't fit I can always return them. I'm not sure what you like, so I just went with my gut."
Frost looked them over, and felt a little red in the face.
"Thank you. This is really great. I don't know when I'd get to wear them though."
"Well, Vivian wants to stay in port a while longer and we all have extended shore leave. So, if you're up for it, maybe we could walk the town in the next few days. Only if you're up for it, though. I'd feel bad if you exhausted yourself crutching around the city with me."
Frost chuckled and set the clothes on the desk.
"Jas, I've walked on broken feet before. I can manage this," he said, nodding at his leg.
"Good." She rummaged through one of the bags and procured a plastic box with earphones in it. "Here. I thought I'd get you these so you can listen to your music when you're exercising in the armory. I know you like music."
"Really? Wow, thanks," Frost said, taking the box. "That's real sweet of you."
"That's not all," she said, taking out another plastic box with a music player. "I caught a glimpse of what you're currently using. Looks a little old. I got you a new one; this one has better speakers, a headphone jack, and could be hooked up to the radio in any kind of car. Even a Warthog, the cashier said. I think he was joking though."
"Really? Even a Warthog?"
"Won't know unless you try."
Frost laughed.
"Next time we get into the beast we'll give it a whirl. I think the squad would love some badass tunes going into battle."
"It comes with a chip you can use to transfer all the music from you current player on this one."
Frost frowned.
"I didn't get you anything."
"How could you when you're all hooked up with a wounded leg?" Jasmine said sweetly. "Speaking of which, why don't we take that out?"
Frost could only nod. Jasmine removed the IV and put a bandage around his arm. After being forced to brush his teeth, Frost removed his shirt and pants with a little help, and got into bed and went to the far side against the wall. Jasmine cleaned up for a few moments and then went into the bathroom to change again. When she emerged she was wearing a standard issue tank top and shorts. Her tan legs were somewhat slender and her thighs shapely. She went to the desk and cleaned her glasses with a soft white cloth. Frost looked at her back; her skin was a series of faded splotches from the plasma burns from Camp Havens.
"Do they hurt you sometimes?"
"Hm?" Jasmine said as she put her glasses in their case. "Does what hurt me?"
"The burns," Frost said, pointing.
"Oh, not at all. Not for some time. You did a good job."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
Frost looked up at the ceiling.
"I've never felt more afraid than I did when you got hit. I've seen pals of mine get wounded. Seen them die. It's not really scary. In the back of your mind you know it's going to happen, just not to who. All it does is chip away at you. Seeing you there on the ground, motionless, your coat tattered, your back all burned..." Frost closed his eyes for a moment. "I never expected you to be on the ground, never expected you to get hurt."
Jasmine drew closer, standing in front of him, looking down. He looked at her, smiling sadly. "I don't think I ran so fast in my entire life."
Her smile warmed him. Frost reached over with his left hand, forgetting his missing finger, and brushed her cheek. "You're so small, gentle, kind. I can't imagine something like that happening without hurting inside."
Jasmine took his hand with both of hers. He didn't realize how tiny her hands were compared to his.
"I see hundreds of faces come in my medical bay. Boys; seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty years old. Missing limbs, missing parts of their faces, burned, shot, bleeding, broken, ripped apart. It takes all of my self-control not to collapse. I can almost feel their suffering like its my own. To do what I must, I have to block it, I have to focus. I have to harden my heart, so I can do things like you saw last night. When you came into the field hospital, I could have bawled. I could have collapsed. I let myself feel the pain because it was you. I needed to."
Jasmine squeezed his hand tightly. "Nathaniel, I...I need to know, how you want...I mean, how we should..."
She seemed to lose her words. For a moment, she let go of his hand and planted one of hers on her forehead, thinking. After a moment, she seemed less exasperated and smiled gently. He smiled back. Then she sank down, sitting on his good leg. Her weight was comfortable there. Instinctively, Frost put an arm around her middle. Both of them were blushing. Her slender arm went around his shoulder until her rested on just below the back of his neck. They stared into one another's eyes for some time. She smelled of body odor and antiseptic, but between the two he could smell something sweet, intoxicating. The distance began to close between them, and their eyes began to close.
A message pinged Jasmine's data pad. Like a hound that had caught a scent, her head perked up and she rushed over to her desk. Seconds passed. "Oh, no..." she murmured.
"What's wrong?" Frost asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
"One of the patients just took a turn for the worse. He needs to be operated on immediately," Jasmine explained as she threw her pants, shoes, sweater, and lab coat back on.
"I thought your shift is over," Frost said.
"It is, but I'm the chief medical officer on this ship. If something critical like this happens, I'd rather be the one to do it. I don't know when I'll be back. Just turn off the lights and get some rest."
Jasmine was gone in an instant. Frost felt lonesomeness creep upon him. With a heavy sigh, he turned off the lights, got as comfortable as he could, and pulled the sheets up to his chin. Shutting his eyes, he opened she'd be back soon.
"Really starting to bug me how Waters keeps choosing Marines over Helljumpers to take on special ops," Holst said, pacing back and forth. De Vos was sitting on the other side of his desk. His office in the security wing lacked homely touches, no holo-pictures or photographs, no memorabilia. Only his medals and ribbons, attached to a small board, hung on the wall, beside a tattered ODST flag.
De Vos shrugged.
"Captain Waters is in command of the entire task force. We've got to follow orders."
"It's been three damned months," Holst said, aggravated.
"The war won't end tomorrow," De Vos said, briefly thinking what wonderful news that would be. What a news report: the Covenant just packed up their gear and jumped home to whatever shithole planets they had spawned from. Humanity would rejoice, albeit there would be a great deal of confusion as to why. It'd almost be hilarious. "We've taken part in some heavy action already, and I'm sure there will be more in the future."
"Not if Jack the Ripper gets his special unit. He'll be leading troops on special ops, racking up his kill count, getting medal after medal. I thought Waters despised the little bastard; with all he's done for her, you'd think he was her prized asset."
"Gunny Frost is a good soldier," De Vos offered, "I've fought with him. His skillset is impressive and he knows how to lead a squad effectively."
"I wouldn't put too much stock in a fuckin' baby killer."
De Vos frowned.
"Frost never killed civilians."
Holst gave her an unimpressed glance.
"I chose you as my XO because you're smart, Nina. You honestly think he didn't kill Innie noncombatants on Skopje? You've heard all the horror stories."
"If I recall, the massacre of noncombatants was committed by Army troops, not Marines."
Holst gave her a dismissive wave.
"The day I let a war criminal have more gravitas on a ship than me, is the day I resign my commission and go live with my rotten family in Amsterdam. You'd never seen such a lazy pack of lowlifes like them. Content to just waste away and not do anything with themselves," Holst shook his head. "Hell, Frost shouldn't have even been promoted to gunnery sergeant. He just got a battlefield promotion to staff sergeant. I'm not sure he's fulfilled all the requirements for those ranks."
"As far as I'm aware, The 89th received extended and unique training; many of the personnel have fulfilled certain requirements. Technically, most if not all are eligible for promotions to higher ranks," De Vos chuckled. "Almost nine years of service in total; three in training, six in combat. The UNSC could promote and spread these men out among other units; they'd make great NCOs and officers. Imagine if they went back and started teaching the new kids."
"Most of them are kids!" Holst exclaimed. "I swear some of them haven't a bit of scruff on their chin. I gotta talk with Waters. We are a distinguished unit as well; the Glorious 12th Shock of the 105th Shock Troops Division. We're certified as a Special Purpose Force too and we deserve to play a larger role in overall operations."
"Sir, with respect-"
"Just say it, Nina."
"We are just one part of thousands of personnel under her command. ODSTs are shock troops, this is well established. But look at how Waters has used us before; we've dealt killing blows to the enemy. Think of the Marines as a harpoon, and the ODSTs as a lance. The harpoon is used to deal damage, weaken, tire. The lance is used for killing."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, this isn't some 19th Century whaling ship."
"Just a metaphor, sir."
Holst sighed and planted both hands on the back of his chair.
"We have a real chance to make a name for ourselves again. I don't want to fade away."
"After what we've been through," De Vos sighed, "fading away doesn't sound too awful, does it?"
She smiled a little. Holst didn't register any emotion. Finally, he stood up straight.
"I've got some paperwork to do. After action reports, casualty lists, death letters, the usual. Want me to put you in for a commendation? That was a fine drop you pulled the other day. You could make a sport out of drop pod formations. Never seen such a perfect ring," he grinned.
De Vos shook her head, annoyed with the condescending tone in his voice.
"No, sir."
"Suit yourself."
"I think I'll go check on the men."
De Vos stood up, saluted, and turned to leave. She heard him snap his fingers.
"That's what we'll do."
"Sir?"
"Frost is going to be putting a raider unit together. Unofficial, but unofficial or not, there needs to be an officer in charge. Waters and Hayes know that. I think I'll have a chat with the Dread Pirate Waters and point that out. If I have my way, you'll be put in charge of the raiders unit and this'll become ODST business."
De Vos said nothing. All she did was nod, and leave.
Jasmine slipped back into the room. It was dark and late. She hadn't looked at the time and didn't care. All she knew was that she was exhausted, and the operation had almost failed. Success, nonetheless, had been achieved. Another life saved. Still, it didn't feel like much had been accomplished. As she quietly stepped in, she peered at Frost. He was lying on his back, the sheets pushed down a little. He was sweating a little, and his mouth was slightly open. Without his mustache, he looked a bit more like his actual age. Beards made the many young men on board look so much older. She pondered what he would look with his facial hair completely shaved off. Even if his whiskers were gone, the scars and wear on his face would still make him look several years older than he was.
His light brown hair was already growing back. It was messy and matted on his forehead. Maybe he had been dreaming. Carefully, she brushed it back. He did not stir. Jasmine decided to shower first before getting into bed. After getting into the bathroom without making a sound, she turned on the light and started running the water. Undressing, she stepped under the water as steam rose around her. The water was soothing and she sighed, feeling days of stress melt away. After standing under the hot water for what seemed to be an hour, she stepped out, dried off, and threw her tank top back on and as well as a fresh pair of underwear. The room was messy with discarded clothes but she didn't mind; it was a mess to be dealt with tomorrow. When she turned to get into bed, Frost's eyes were open. Since her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see him quite clearly.
Jasmine got under the sheets and was beside him. She felt a bit nervous; it was the first time she had ever been in a bed with a man. Frost must have been too, as his eyes darted from her's nervously. Nothing was said between the two for some time. Darkness surrounded them, though for once it was not unpleasant. More so, it was shield against the world outside the door. Staring at him made her want to stay there, and not have to get back up tomorrow. Something sorrowful and lonesome gripped her despite his presence, so much so that she wanted to let herself cry. Mixed with those wretched feelings was a certain relief; perhaps the solitude she felt for years was just magnified then, now that she was not alone.
Eventually, her right side began to ache. By force of habit, she rolled onto her left, turning her back to him. Her eyelids grew heavy. Then, she felt his hand on her upper arm, tentative and gentle. Then his whole arm around came around her. His other arm came around as well; she lifted her head and rested her head on it like it was a pillow. His embrace was sweet and snug. He pressed his face into the back of her head, nestling his nose in her wet dark hair. Jasmine smiled as she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck; it made the hair there stand up.
"I don't like being alone at night," he whispered. "It makes me feel like I'm in a dark tunnel again."
With four sisters, he probably hadn't gotten a room to himself growing up. Military life didn't allow for privacy either. Constant company, something that many would eventually tire, was something he had grown accustomed to. An attachment that had started in his youth, carried into the bondship of soldiers. Jasmine didn't need him to say it. She understood.
Frost inhaled slightly. "You were going to say something earlier. It seemed important to you."
"It can keep until morning," Jasmine whispered to him. "I want you to sleep."
Nothing more was said, and soon he was asleep. Feeling an immense warmth in her chest, Jasmine settled in his arms and drifted off into sleep.
"Uh...heh, it was the first time I had ever broken any rules. At least, I'm pretty sure it was."
-Carris, UNSCN
Author's Note:
Too bad it didn't line up as GTFO. Wouldn't that have been great? This was a fun but difficult chapter to write, I have to admit. It's nice to play around with the characters a bit and show different sides of them. Frost's inner child fears, Jasmine's desire for human connection, Langley's inner "girly-ness" if you want to call it that, Steele's acting out as he prepares for more responsibility, Moser's steadfast devotion giving way to apprehension. While I try to balance what sides we see of our characters, it's relieving to me as the writer to sometimes just focus on one side, especially more emotional, confrontational, romantic sides. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading.