A/N: Second update...
Read.
XXXXXI.
When Jimmy appeared just outside the entrance to the captain's tent, Weaver was talking in low voices with a few other fighters, so Jimmy waited quietly until he was called in; which happened almost as soon as he was noticed.
Weaver dismissed the other fighters in the tent, grabbing Samson in his passing to whisper a short command, and then gesturing to Jimmy to take a seat at one of the chairs he had set up around a foldout table.
"How you feeling, Jimmy?" Weaver asked right off.
Jimmy shrugged, humorlessly, rigidly remarking, "Kind of like…if one more person asks me that question I might punch them."
Weaver smirked, and then Jimmy remembered himself.
"Sorry, sir," he mumbled.
"No, you're entitled to that," Weaver conceded, then he cleared his throat and continued to note, "Gave us all quite a scare."
"Wasn't my intention, sir," Jimmy responded.
"I know. You were just doing your job," Weaver agreed, he walked a couple times back and forth behind the table, hands behind his back and gaze angled downward, brow roughly furrowed, "I was just thinking, you've come a long way from that runt kid we picked up more than half a year ago in Dorchester."
Jimmy bit his inner cheek, balled his hands into fists, resting on his lap.
"You remember what you said to me, when you first asked to become a fighter?" Weaver queried and Jimmy half-shrugged.
"Sort of."
"Well, I remember it clear as if it happened yesterday," Weaver promised, continuing to expound, "You had just marched up, announced to me and all the other high ups in the militia your intentions…I remember laughing, all of us laughing, and you…you didn't even flinch. I asked, what's a kid like you think he's gonna do out there? Liability is all you'd be. You really think when it came down to it that you could pull that trigger? And, Jimmy, you're telling me you don't remember what you said after that?"
Jimmy closed his eyes, tried to recall the conversation. He shook his head, no, he didn't remember, and swallowed down hard the emotions rising like bile in his throat.
"You said, give me a gun and we'll find out," Weaver answered. He smiled, rubbed his stubble-coated chin, "Well I guess we really found out the other day what you're capable of. You know," Weaver's voice dropped a few decibels, "I know it ain't my place to say, hell, I don't know anything about who your parents were but I am sure, wherever they are, they're proud of you."
Jimmy grimaced, trembled slightly, unnoticeably, blinked his eyes open and peered up at Weaver, the old man locking him in a meaningful stare.
"Regardless, well, I'm proud enough of you for the both of them," Weaver said firmly, and then he straightened, his brow raised up slightly, attention suddenly on the tent entrance.
Jimmy turned round to see what Weaver was looking at then felt a fire in his belly, a churning sickness. Samson stood there, holding the sleeve of a less-than-enthused Franklin. For a moment, the boys held one another's gaze, their last encounter playing vividly in both their minds. Then Jimmy dropped his eyes once more to the ground and scowled.
"Have a seat, Frank," Weaver declared, it was more of a command than an invitation.
Franklin did as told, shuffling towards the table to take the seat next to Jimmy, careful to keep a distance. The tension between them was too heavy not to notice and with Weaver standing over them, pacing behind the table, Jimmy couldn't help but feel like he was back at school waiting for punishment in the principal's office.
"Frank here's been telling us about what went down in the warehouse before he left," Weaver started, he sounded almost sarcastic, "I just wanted to verify the details with you, Jimmy, if that's alright? I know it's a little soon, but I'd like to get things cleared up and put behind us as soon as possible."
Jimmy could feel Franklin's frightened glare on him and he bit his inner cheek thoughtfully, murmuring, "Sure."
"Okay. Now, according to Franklin, you two and Fortune got into the warehouse on the south eastern side, just like Riley ordered and it was agreed by everyone that you and Fortune would go inside, set the bombs, while Frank stayed at the door to hold your exit, are we good so far?" Weaver rattled off the story anxiously, as though eager to get to the good parts.
Jimmy nodded and Weaver continued.
"Franklin says you and Fortune were pretty far into the warehouse when the enemy showed up. They attacked Fortune first and when you went to investigate, that was when the mechs arrived."
Jimmy shrugged, nodded, squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He could still feel Fortune beside him, dead weight across his shoulders, her blood seeping warm through his t-shirt.
"From there, Frank says you were forced to leave Fortune, take cover, but that you were cut off from the exit. He said the mechs were almost on you, and they were blocking his path to the detonator, there was no way he could get to it, too far away…he couldn't even see it, couldn't see you, and that if he stayed where he was much longer, they'd find him too. There was no other choice, he says; he was forced to leave, thought if he could find another group that they could reset their detonators to tune with the explosives from Riley's unit, says he thought you'd said something about it."
Jimmy furrowed his brow, tried to follow the details, the emotions stirring in him dark and disparaging. It wasn't easy to remember everything from that moment in the warehouse. Things were too hot, too overwhelming, too intense.
"I want you to be honest with me, Jimmy, does that all sound about right to you? Or is there, maybe, a detail Franklin is leaving out or maybe just ain't remembering right?" Weaver questioned.
Franklin could see Jimmy, that Jimmy knew, but maybe Franklin couldn't see the detonator and maybe Franklin misunderstood Jimmy's gestured attempts at explaining his plan. But Jimmy never, ever, said that another team's detonator could be reset to a different team's explosives frequency, that was idiotic, re-tuning another detonator to the correct frequency would be damn near impossible and there simply would not have been enough time.
"No, sir," Jimmy mumbled, arms wrapping around himself, "That's how it happened."
Franklin let out the air in his lungs, a great whoosh. Weaver shifted, his clothes rustling noisily, as he walked a few paces away from the table and the boys. He seemed, in a way, disappointed, and Jimmy was sure Weaver sensed he was lying.
"Okay," Weaver announced, and then said, "You can go now, Frank." He paused, sighed and added distantly, "Good work out there."
Franklin left without a word or second glance and Weaver waited a few minutes after Franklin had gone before speaking again.
"A thing has been bothering me for a time now, and I know this is hard but I got to ask, Jimmy. You were pinned down by mechs, cut off from the detonator, and when we dug through the warehouse remains looking for you, we found that detonator in the mess. How'd you get away from those mechs and why was that detonator still in there, buried under the wreckage, if you got out to blow it up?"
Jimmy leaned forward on his knees, and wet his lips. He took a deep breath, sorted out the wording in his mind. Weaver turned back to Jimmy, waiting patiently. When Jimmy finally spoke again, his tone was flat and weary.
"How did I get away from the mechs…well, I walked right past them, sir," he answered and then turning his gaze up to the captain, the old man watching him quietly, bemused, and speechless, "And…I never said I got out." He jerked a thumb towards himself and smirked enigmatically, "Ghost of Dorchester."
Weaver burst into loud, booming laughter at that. Jimmy lowered his eyes again, clasped his hands together and glared at the ground.
"Another thing that's been bothering me," Weaver started up again after his laughter had died down, though the mirth was still evident in his tone, "When we found you, you had wandered quite a distance from that industrial complex. Where exactly were you going?"
Jimmy looked up at the captain, puzzled.
"Back to the 2nd Mass," he explained, he thought that would be obvious.
Again, the captain burst into laughter, though it wasn't as loud this time and faded a lot faster.
"Did you plan on walking round the whole globe to do it?" Weaver chortled.
Jimmy made a face, then groaned and buried his head in his hands, so he was going the wrong way the whole time, of-fucking-course. Weaver pulled something wrapped in a dark blue cloth out of his pocket and set it on the table in front of Jimmy, startling the younger boy upright again. Jimmy stared at the wrapped object, bewildered a moment, then turned his attention back to the captain.
"Go ahead, open it," Weaver encouraged, somber again. He walked a few paces away, back turned as Jimmy followed his instructions. Inside, he found a heavy, black, metal object, with a piece that flipped out, and a little compass rose in the center of it under a glass dome with a silver pointer.
"Sir?" Jimmy wondered, looking confused at the captain.
"It's a compass," Weaver explained the obvious, then further elucidated, "It's important to me, been in my family a time. I always planned on passing it down to one of my daughters…" he faltered, shook his head and turned around to settle an easy expression on Jimmy, "But that doesn't matter, I suppose. If this experience has taught us anything, it's that you may need it more than me right now. Go ahead, take it, use it."
"Sir…I couldn't…" Jimmy began, overwhelmed by the strangely sentimental gesture.
"It's an order, Jimmy," Weaver interjected, "You got shit navigational skills. We could have found you a lot sooner if you'd known where the hell you were going. Take the compass; you can give it back when you learn north from south, or whenever you have the chance to get your own."
Jimmy nodded, gingerly plucking the compass off the table and clutching it to himself.
"Thank you, sir. I'll take good care of it," he promised.
"Hopefully better care than you take of yourself," Weaver suggested humorously. Jimmy smirked and nodded. "Now, get out of here, son, get some rest."
Jimmy nodded again, standing from the chair and starting towards the tent exit.
"Oh, one more thing, Jimmy," Weaver called, and Jimmy paused at the tent flap, turning his attention once more to his captain, "You and Ben got the next two weeks off. I figured you boys both deserved it, with all you've been through these past few days, and what with saving the day and all."
Weaver dropped his eyes and kicked a stone across the ground.
"He's pretty attached to you, you know? That Ben Mason. Take care of yourself, huh? For him," Weaver said.
"Yes, sir," Jimmy whispered and slipped from the tent.
Franklin was waiting outside, and Jimmy hesitated a moment at seeing the other boy, but recovered hastily and strode purposeful across the campground. Franklin trailed behind.
"I had you all wrong, Jimmy," Franklin rambled quickly, quietly, "You could've sold me out in there, could've told Weaver I abandoned you, but you didn't. You're a solid guy. I'm sorry for treating you like a traitor…I thought…I thought because of that razorback, all that time you were spending with it, but I'm…"
Jimmy didn't spin round very fast, but the action caught Franklin off guard well enough that he was able to pull off the hit. There wasn't much strength behind it and he only really just clipped the side of the older boy's jaw, tipping himself off balance and nearly tumbling to the ground in the process but Franklin stood there, head hung to the side, stunned and dejected all the same. Then Jimmy, recovering his footing, grabbed Franklin's collar, and jerked him forward as roughly as he could, which wasn't very much but the intention was clear.
"I want you to know something," Jimmy hissed, eyes pricked with jagged ice, then his tone steadied and became a firm growl, low enough that only Franklin could hear as a crowd of 2nd Mass fighters and civilians began to gather, interested in the commotion and ready to step in if need be, "I want you to know something…if it had been Ben…if Ben had been there with me…and not you…he never…never…would have left me."
Jimmy let Franklin go and stumbled a few paces back.
His eyes remained locked on the boy as he announced clearly for everyone to hear, "So you can call him whatever you want…whatever you think will remind him the most of the hell the Skitters put him through, but know that there is one thing you can never call him, never, and I want you to think about that whenever you look in the fucking mirror… that there is, at least, one thing he isn't."
Jimmy took a few more steps backward and pulled himself up tall and strong, jaw tense and gaze a biting tundra wind.
"He isn't a coward," Jimmy spat out, and then spun round, folded his arms over his knotted stomach and marched away.
The crowd parted to let Jimmy through, a few fighters that had gathered there; Anthony, Hal, Maggie, clapped his shoulders, ruffled his hair in passing. He didn't take another look back to see how his words had affected Franklin; he'd seen enough carnage that past week.
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A/N: Right, there you have it...um...review please?
Actually, I have a question I want all of your opinions on: Jimmy's friends from before, their fates aren't really known and they did survive the invasion for the most part, how would everyone feel if I brought them into the sequel? Not all of them, we don't all get out unscathed...Ryan would definitely be in it, though he would not play the role of Ben's rival for Jimmy's love...and probably Gary, because Gary was my fave, maybe Lenny because he makes trouble, I don't know. The decision to bring them in will ultimately hinder on whether or not they would fulfill a true role in the story, instead of just being there, but I'd like to know feelings on that subject. I'm quite a ways in the sequel from where I would introduce them, so if I get mostly negative responses to this question, I'll probably seriously consider not putting them in.
Anyhow, let me know.
Reviewers: Greg, :P, chill, man, we're getting there. CallMePox, I always want to type 'pow'...stupid fingers. Hey, why couldn't Ryan be both interested and wanting to screw with the project? Joking. I think James's just wasn't the only one that noticed the "the strange kid" staring...or maybe it was James that was staring and Ryan didn't like that. WhisperMaw, sweet and succinct, glad you had a chance to stop by! No, Ryan really didn't...poor Ryan. I really do love him, hence why I pick on him. Haley, cool, it's one of my faves too! LOL, loved your reaction to Jimmy's return. JDMlvr1, don't feel bad, seems you weren't the only one. I love that flashback too, and you'll have to keep reading to find out. Cookie97, hehe, glad you liked the flashback so much. Don't know if their short 'first' reunion moved you to tears, but the 'second' (real) reunion might..hopefully...not, I don't know. I'm glad this story meant something to you, and it's not really my place to say, but the future shouldn't be something to hate, because it really can be whatever you make of it. I know, cheesy, but my situation, I came from a poor homelife, my grades were shit, I barely passed classes, I never wanted to go home, when I was there I locked myself in my room and hid away with books, but thinking about the future was what got me through everyday, and even tho my future isn't exactly what I envisioned, it was knowing that things weren't always going to be that way that helped. Now I'm in university, studying to be an anthropologist, and when I get my degree and get into research projects, I'll be able to travel the world and study all sorts of interesting artifacts and cultures, and be paid to do it! I know some people come from worse situations, they have more of the world against them, but you can't dismiss the future, because that's your hope right there, the future. Anyhow, that's my words of encouragement for today, I don't know if they were actually encouraging tho...oh well. FacePalmer123, aw...I was saddened for a moment, you really had me going there...I'm glad you liked it! Maika-LunaRotta, thank you, would that I could put more of them in together, but the story doesn't always allow it. I think it makes the moments when they are together that much better, but apparently no one else agrees. Whatever.
See you guys tomorrow, and yeah...look forward to it.
