Author's note: Chapter warning that there are depictions of violence/gore/horror/swearing in this chapter, nothing gratuitous as it serves the plot but this is just to let you know.
CHAPTER SEVEN: SURVIVAL MODE
Sam watched as Jack returned to the camp with Preston to the enthusiastic relief of the others. She understood the sentiment, whilst she was perfectly capable of keeping watch over Sanctuary, there was something about Jack that radiated security… strength. She was relieved herself to see him striding back in particularly how they'd left things.
She was sat under the awning on one of the rickety patio chairs, cleaning her rifle when his shadow passed in front of her. Hand up to shade her eyes she stared up at him silhouetted from the sun as he stood in front of her.
"I come baring 'Tato's' he admitted tossing her one, "And a tonne of neat tricks for keeping the pesky blighters alive long enough to eat. Also… Brahmin, those two headed cow like things we saw that once on the way up here, were cows or near as they got, good milk though, we should catch one."
Sam leant back so her head was in shade and he eased himself into the seat next to her. She couldn't help but give him a once over, her eyes lingering on the rip and blood stain on his arm. He glanced at it. "Robot, was a clean gash, got it sown up." He told her, his eyes scanning over her looking similarly for damage and finding none. It was nearly noon, she was faintly surprised and pleased they were back, she hadn't expected them until tomorrow morning.
"I thought you were going to be another day or so." She admitted, their last conversation still pressing heavily between them as his intense stare settled over her. Reminding her that the ball was firmly in her court at the moment.
He shrugged. "Was easier than expected." He glanced up as Preston came and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Has the General told you yet about his little fan club… poor man had to high-tale it out of there." Preston grinned wide and long at her, then stalked off and Sam watched him leave, seeing the annoyed set of Jack's face and surmising that Preston hadn't been supposed to mention that.
"Fan club huh?" she asked innocently.
"Apparently you were right, I should have worn a damn bandana." He glowered and she smirked.
"Wouldn't have helped." She shrugged almost aping his words, "It's your ass that's pretty." He startled, his eyes widening and she couldn't help but smirk at the impact of her words on him and she was more than a little pleased, if slightly mortified by her instinct to make him think about her so soon after learning he'd been the object of someone else's affections.
"Fortunately, my ass was covered." He grinned. "Or I doubt I'd of gotten out of there in one piece. Persistent doesn't cover it." He muttered in mostly in what she suspected was mock indignation.
"Sam." He started and she felt the grin slip off her face as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees towards her, "It felt good out there, helping people. So I've decided to try and make a go of this, with Preston. Rebuild his Minutemen, spread a bit of hope and community through the Commonwealth. See if we can't make it more liveable." He explained and she felt a sinking feeling in her gut, he was going to go out there into the Wastes and keep doing his hero thing, that came as innately to him as breathing. Of course, she'd known he wouldn't be able to just sit by and watch people suffer, not if he could help.
"Are you asking for my permission… or my help?" she asked, genuinely confused as to which and surprised again at the seeming ease to the shift in their power dynamics. A welcome one if she was honest, she wasn't sure if she would be able to tolerate a lifetime out here in the Wastes or even a relationship with him, if that was where they were headed, if she was expected to tow the line like the good 2IC.
"Both." He replied and she got the distinct feeling it was more in what he wasn't saying, the whole 'it's you and me babe against the world' or something else ridiculously cliché.
"Is this you officially dissolving our Chain of Command Sir?" she asked coquettishly, smirking as his eyes widened for a moment. Apparently he'd expected her to take it badly, but then this wasn't so much about them as it was about setting up a new sort of tactical unit out here. This was strategy, and sustainability. Not about dissolving regulations so they're relationship such as it was could move forward. This for some reason she found easier to take.
"Yes." He replied finally and she paused. Apparently, it was that simple for him. "We do this together or not at all. Partners?" He held his hand out to hers and Sam paused, considering. This was another step along the way to destroying their old relationship and building a new one, another brick so to speak in the wall that was home. Boarding it up, putting it away as a part of their lives that was done… past. Her knee jerk reaction of a few nights ago wasn't there as immediately now. She had to admit, she hadn't liked the feeling of watching him walk out of camp with Preston at his side, not because she didn't think he could handle it, but because life out here was short and violent. She wasn't sure she wanted the last time she spoke to him to be in anger, but then she wasn't quite ready to watch him become her biggest regret either.
Sam reached forward and slipped her hand into his, he clasped it firmly and they shook. "Next time you walk out of here in a snit, I'll shoot you… partner." She smiled thinly at him dropping his hand and getting up to leave.
"I look forward to it… Samantha." He called out, elongating her name to turn it into something utterly different and she shot him a look, he knew she hated being called that.
He did as promised. For the next month he didn't mention their relationship, or rather lack of it, he didn't mention Earth either, he merely let her think herself in knots, which had been his point, he was clearly hoping she'd see sense. They worked side by side each other and the small group of people, which was starting to grow. Two travellers had arrived they were farmers, which was helpful. They actually had a field in the centre of the town that had once been a playground which was starting to thrive with its new purpose. Strangely enough the crops seemed to grow fast, mutated like everything else into something hardier. But already the mutfruit they'd planted had flowered and the corn they'd finally found good enough soil to grow in was shooting up. It wasn't the type of thing she'd ever seen herself doing, turning soil and planting crops, and mostly she stayed out of it, she had a knack for machines not plants. But she could still appreciate the irony of becoming farmers in a wasteland.
She accompanied Jack out on one of his Minutemen missions every now and again, mostly on tech recovery. The Satellite array they'd discovered by Abernathy Farm had proven to be a treasure trove with regards to copper wiring and parts, they'd even managed to disable and salvage one of the Sentry Bots at the abandoned Robotics Yard. Since then she'd spent quite a lot of time fixing it up, the thing was vicious and she'd honestly never seen anything like it. Sturgess had point blank refused to touch the thing, he'd said they were twitchy and that he'd known more than few mechs that had died trying to re-wire the things. Bad luck apparently. Tricky more likely. Military grade hardware judging by the insignia stamped on its frame, and they were designed to be tamper proof with some very specific hard-wired coding that made them lethal to the point of self-destruction. Which was what had almost happened to this one. Jack had tried to drag her away when it had started counting down from 10, until she'd pointed out that there wasn't a safe distance if she was right about its power core being nuclear. At which point he'd done the sensible thing and let her go fix it. Which she had, even if it had electrocuted her in the process.
She'd woken up about 12 foot from it having been blown back and Jack's hands pressed to her chest, his mouth over hers, spluttering back to life. Apparently, her heart had stopped, so he said, she thought he might be exaggerating, but there was a scorch mark on her hand and another burn on her chest when she'd dared to look that night. That was twice now he'd saved her from death by electrocution, it was almost starting to become a habit. Her whole body ached like it had been dragged back from the edge of something at any rate.
Jack appeared in the doorway later that night as she'd angled the mirror they'd carried carefully up from the Vault on one of their recent supply runs, trying to see the damage.
"Let me." He stepped in and waved a pot of what one of the travelling medics had said was a cream that would work well on most injuries, including burns. It had seemed to fix up Mama Murphy when she'd gotten a little too close to the campfire in one of her half-baked meanderings.
Sam stared at him in the reflection for a moment, before nodding and pulling aside the wrapping she'd been using to strap up her breasts since her bra had given up the ghost, keeping her hand and arm firmly positioned to cover them she turned. He didn't so much as make a lewd comment or even linger on the revealed skin. Just carefully got to work on the burn on her stomach, lathering the ointment onto her chest whilst she forgot how to breath at the feel of him touching her, even if it hurt. He stepped close until she could feel the heat of him inches from her, the intensity as he resolutely didn't chew her out for almost dying… again. Then his hand slipped to press flat against her bare waste and he turned her gently so he could touch her back.
"It arced right through you." He told her quietly, his hand pressing to a sore spot she hadn't even realised was there on the opposite side towards her spine and she winced. The lotion was applied again with care and she savoured the illicit feel of his fingers against her skin for a moment as he lingered tracing an idle pattern. The cool soothing sensation seemed to spread and she couldn't help but groan a little at the relief it offered from the searing heat that had gone bone deep. She supposed she was lucky it hadn't been another inch to the right or it might have taken out her nervous system with a jolt that big. Or her heart.
"I did get the damn thing working again." She pointed out wanting to defend herself against his oppressive silence, certain she could almost hear his internal rebuke. Right now that Sentry Bot was out on patrol, a walking tank that would make just about anything pause, even one of the Supermutant's she'd heard so much about and had yet to meet thankfully.
"Yeah. And what good is it if your dead." He replied sharply, letting his fingers fall away from her skin.
"Let me see your hand." He held out his for her and she reluctantly placed it there, the hand was the worst off having taken the brunt of the charge and a lot of the heat. He held it delicately, examining it and placing a dollop of the cream directly in the centre of her palm. She risked looking up as he rubbed it into the damaged skin, his eyes were on her hand, his expression pinched and focussed, taking the utmost care with her. She wondered if he'd look like that during sex. She'd thought about Jack and sex a lot over the years, she'd simultaneously hated and loved it when he'd appear in one of her fantasies, because whilst nothing made her come faster, it also left her feeling empty and wrong when she was done. Wanting what she couldn't have had always been her guilty pleasure.
His eyes lifted as if sensing her scrutiny and she inhaled sharply at the searing look he gave her, his anger and desire for her laid bare, like the mask he'd worn all these years had simply blown away in a Radstorm out here.
"Please don't look at me like that." She murmured, pulling her hand gently out of his, the soothing cream already doing its job and offering relief from the ache.
"I've always looked at you like this Sam. You've just never seen it before." He countered.
"No, you haven't." She rasped. He cocked an eyebrow, 'do tell' it seemed to say. "If you had, I wouldn't have managed to resist for eight years." She countered.
The corner of his lip quirked up in a not-quite smile, but his eyes flashed dangerously. "You know, it's ironic you almost getting yourself killed today… again." He started, stepping forward and she inched back almost instinctively, he looked like a predator right now, all bright focussed eyes and sinuous movements that had her screaming to either give in or get away.
"Given as today is 4 months to the day since we got stranded here, that's 120 days of this place Sam." He told her and she reached a wall, bumping into it and almost startling when she realised he'd backed her into it.
"Four months is the official SGC deadline to declare anyone involved in a stargate malfunction of some sort, presumed KIA… based I'll have you know, on my little 100 day field trip." He informed her quietly, his dark eyes boring into her.
Sam shook her head. "No, they'd keep looking you know Daniel, he won't let them declare that."
Jack gave her a look that was almost pitying and she cast her eyes down, not wanting to see that as she bit her lip, trying to force back tears that threatened. "Tell me Carter, what was the longest it would take them to get a ship out to old P4M…?" he pressed and she closed her eyes.
"A month, two at most." She replied not having to think hard, she'd thought about that exact scenario before. "The Prometheus would have been able to reach it well within that time frame." She added, he knew that, hell she knew that she just didn't want to say it.
"Not to mention the Asgard, or the Tok'ra," he continued this line of thought for them. "Because I doubt very much Dad would just leave it to chance, he'd want to go look at that world where you'd gone MIA." Jack added, sounding for all the world like a lecturer and she wondered if that was how she sounded when she was trying to convince him he was being an idiot too.
Sam nodded, feeling sick. She knew what he was trying to do. Push her past denial and straight into anger… even if it was at him. He'd said that she was grieving her old life, she hadn't realised how true that might be even as she fought for alternate explanations and reasons they'd keep looking.
"And what do you reckon they'd find there, because we know it won't have been us." He poked and she sighed, looking back up at him.
"The amount of energy required to distort the wormhole the way it did…" she rubbed her fingers over her forehead for a moment, she didn't need to calculate, she'd known the moment she realised what had happened. "It would have to have been some sort of detonation, maybe even a blast from a ship in orbit."
"So, a smoking crater?" He reasoned and she nodded. "And say they found the gate miraculously intact along with the DHD." He questioned. "What would it tell them?" His voice appeared calm on the surface but she could hear the bite in it now after so long with him, it meant he was losing his patience.
"You can stop it; I get your point!" She snapped, angry tears threatening as she choked back a sob to reach for rage instead of despair.
"Say it!" he insisted getting right into her face, she must have looked pale or queasy maybe both at his sudden aggressive insistence she face this because his whole demeanour seemed to soften instantly and he cupped her face in his hands.
"Tell me?" He all but pleaded, needing her to break through this wall finally. To accept her grief and let it go.
Sam felt tears spill down her cheeks at the sudden tenderness and his thumbs gently brushed the them away. "That we entered the gate and that the matter stream collapsed, or experienced an unexpected error." She closed her eyes. "It would tell them we died in transit most likely." She admitted it finally, they'd think they were dead and stop looking. And even if they didn't, there was probably no way to recreate the event from their end to get them back, no reason for them even to suspect this.
He sighed. "Sam, we're dead. They aren't looking for us. Not anymore. I just, I'm not asking you to stop looking for a way home, I'm just asking that you stop using it as an excuse. If…" He started, "Or when we get back," he amended taking in her shaky resolve as she reached up and covered his hands with her own, "things won't be the same, they'll have moved on, because they had to, it's what people do." He brushed her cheeks one last time and she let his hands go as he withdrew them.
"Even if it's another three months, or if its years…" he trailed off looking almost resigned to that prospect, "We have to live Sam. Otherwise what was the point in surviving at all?"
She felt her legs give out on her and she let him draw her into his arms as he sunk down to the floor with her, wrapping her up and holding her close whilst she let herself admit it. Her bare chest wrapped in their arms as he cradled her and she barely even noticed as she pressed her back against his covered chest. Their friends weren't going to save them, and getting out of here on this end was looking like a pipe dream, this might well be her new reality and the horror of that crashed around her.
"I don't know if I can do this Jack… live like this out here." She rasped turning and burying her face in his chest, her tears already soaking through his shirt. He raised his hand to her head and gently stroked her hair. Reaching over and retrieving her leather jacket and dropping it lightly around her shoulders to protect her modesty a moment later as she settled against him.
"You're already doing it Sam, for the last 4 months we've done okay, haven't we?" he pressed, "Well except for your mild death wish." He grumbled and she let out a hiccoughing laugh as his hand dropped to gently brush the wound on her stomach, an intimate touch that should have felt more surprised by, but it seemed almost easy, it wasn't sexual, he just wanted to take care of her and she felt that keenly.
"Please, you gotta be more careful Sam. I don't want to be stuck here without you."
The words hit her hard, as did the brutal honesty in which he was delivering them and she clutched her fingers in his shirt, dragging him closer. The smell of him overwhelming her senses with a sense of safety and belonging, a shared history. She pressed her lips to his throat, to the warmth of his skin there and just let herself be surrounded by him as it pushed away some of the overwhelming sense of grief and despair she felt sweeping in as she finally felt hope slip away, to be replaced by a different kind of hope. An old hope.
"I'm sorry." She offered, meaning it even as tears continued to fall.
He nodded, his arms around her he held her like that until she felt herself start to fall asleep with the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear.
"Come on." He quickly did up a couple of buttons on her jacket to cover her as she slipped her arms in and he all but picked her up, supporting her suddenly incredibly fatigued body as she put one foot in front of the other and slowly made her way to the bed's they'd set up in one of the more secure houses in a back room that offered a little privacy at least from the other sleeping occupants in the house. She didn't say a word as she lay on the mattress, but when he went to leave she reached out and grasped his hand.
"Stay with me?" She whispered, not certain it was fair of her, given as how he'd made his feelings and his intentions clear for them, but right now she just wanted the warmth and comfort of his arms back. They hadn't slept this close since he'd declared his intentions to her on the roof that first time, she hadn't dared and he hadn't felt welcome enough. But she could deal with the ramifications of that in the morning.
He sighed looking resigned but he nodded and eased onto the threadbare mattress behind, his arms going around her careful of her wounds as he spooned their bodies together. "Thank you." She murmured and he leant forward and pressed his head to the back of hers, just holding there.
"Any time." He replied gently and she smiled, maybe abandoning hope wasn't so bad.
Jack left the bed before she woke the next morning, mostly because he couldn't bear to have her wake up and stiffen to feel him behind her, not when he'd enjoyed the sensation of holding her like that. Of being able to actually comfort her. But at least the damn had burst, he felt that for the first time she might have truly accepted the fact that there was only a snowballs chance in hell of them getting back to their Earth. If had just been another planet, or even a time hop he might have held out hope, but this… without a stargate, hell just food and shelter were a bloody problem out here, let alone traversing dimensions. Here, hope only hurt her.
She appeared an hour later and he handed her the 'porridge' or what they were loosely terming it from the fast-growing corn and wheat crops. Marcie it turned out had her uses, she'd apparently grown up on a farm, and with the help of some of their neighbouring towns they were staring to get a fairly steady supply of trade caravans coming through.
Sam smiled gently at him and he brushed his fingers over hers as he handed over the bowl, his smile widening when she didn't pull away, allowing the contact as she sat beside him to eat. Mostly they spent their time in companionable silence or spit-balling ideas for security or the community they were building. This Minutemen thing was taking off. Enough that a bunch of raiders had come calling that morning.
Jack had barely got his gun up and darted out to find cover when the rip-roar of the Sentry bot and the turrets Sam had set up lit up like the fourth of July, that along with the perimeter minefield, had them utterly obliterated. He stood his ears ringing as a smoking arm landed a few feet from where he stood. He stared at it with grim satisfaction and turned back to where Sam was lying perched up on the roof with her rifle. She gave him a 'targets eliminated' gesture and he returned a thumbs up.
Sturgess stumbled out, shaking his head and patting his ears as the Sentry bot trundled back up along the street looking no worse for wear. "Wow… guess they won't be trying that again!" he muttered seemingly coming around to Sam's crazy idea of converting the thing.
Jack nodded. "Maybe we ought to get on the radio and make it clear to the traders that they need to stop at the perimeter… I'm guessing we don't want them blowing up." Jack gave Sturgess a thumb gesture suggesting he go deal with and the other man grimaced and gave him a mini-salute and ran off to do just that.
Jack picked up a rusted piece of sheet metal that used to part of one of the houses and handed it to Jun, who was good with his hands, generally speaking. "Think you can make us a 'Beware the Sentry Bot' sign', you know with a STOP symbol." Jun rolled his eyes, which was as close to a conversation as he got, but he took the metal and wandered off.
"Thanks! Nice chat!" Jack quipped, and got a middle finger-up response, so he thought that was progress.
It wasn't the life he was used to, but it had its perks. Granted he'd thought his retirement might involve less back breaking manual labour with the occasional burst of heart pounding adrenalin as something attacked or breached their perimeter. One of those perks however was in front of him right now; Sam in cut off shorts and a vest helping him re-border their expanding farming area with the white picket fences they'd gathered up from around the town. Watching her bend over, all hot and sweaty, acres of long pale skin starting to tan and freckle, he shifted his crotch, well it was one of the better ways to spend an afternoon.
Of course, the months of relative peace in Sanctuary they'd found, were bound to come to a crashing halt. He'd volunteered to go out and recruit a town to the East towards Salem. He should have known that it would turn out to be a shitstorm, particularly because there was talk of the Salem Museum of Witchcraft and an Insane asylum in that direction which had just about wigged him out. Preston wasn't fond of 'East' apparently and was due a little R&R, so that left Sam as his mostly willing companion, she seemed to need the change of scenery. Apparently, there was a local group holed up near Greentop that needed some protection to reach the coast and had decided going East was safer than South. Codsworth had come with them, but mostly because he needed the parts from the General Atomics Galleria that they'd agreed to meet the group at as a mutual location.
Sam and Codsworth had a field day inside, she'd pretty much repaired and generally pimped his ride and loaded him full of so much junk he was starting to suspect she was treating the robot as her own personal caddy. She'd sent him back to Sanctuary with instructions not to stop for anyone or anything. He'd trundled off remarkably pleased with himself with a 'thank you so much Ma'am your too kind'.
"Having fun?" he queried seeing her grinning and admiring the look on her as she hopped the remnants of a robot that looked to have been like old Codsy once upon a day.
"Yep. The Director inside the Galleria is a robot… well he is now, I'm pretty sure it killed the last one. But he thinks I'm some big Supervisor come to launch his opening Galleria, I didn't correct him. He turned the whole thing back on and it just went right on ticking, it's incredible Jack, 200 years old and it just went on like clockwork." She was beaming back at the factory which did appear to have come to life.
"They're willing to trade for parts and various tech." She added. "I managed to get a look at one of their robotics manufacturing platforms, I think they might let me have a play at designing something, he called it a 'special addition'." She grinned widly her blue eyes dancing with sheer unbridled nerdy delight and he adored it, even as he felt a flash of trepidation at it.
Jack held his hands up. "Ahahah…. You've seen the Terminator yes?" he reminded. "And that oh so lovely fella by the name of Harlan, remember him and your oh so perfect robot self? Replicators?" he poked and she grimaced, which was good. He liked her enthusiastic, just not 'that' enthusiastic, bad things happened when Carter and robots got together for a party. Her evil twin was case and point.
"I know Jack." She glared. "But your mixing apples and Oranges." He blinked.
"Come again?"
"Your talking robots and AIs. Robots are a tool, machine code. Those make sense, they have a purpose. Hell even Harlan's bodies were robots just with a human consciousness downloaded. The replicators…. The Entity that took over me, they were Artificial Intelligence. FYI it was Skynet the AI that caused judgement day in Terminator… Jack."
He sucked in a breath and decided he'd poked a hornets nest. He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, look. Whatever. All I'm saying is, lets exercise a little restraint huh, caution."
"This from the man that sticks his head in Ancient repositories and touches everything that is clearly going to do something calamitous." She snipped.
He looked mock offendedly over at her and shrugged, okay fair point. "Good word. Calamitous." He conceded, "And I don't touch everything." He retorted. "Plenty of times I sat there perfectly happy with my yoyo whilst you and Daniel touched stuff. Hey… Orlin. I told you not to touch that honkin space gun of his…" He wagged a finger at her and frowned at her smirk realising what he'd said as she blushed and chuckled to herself for a minute. Doh.
"Living crystals." She came back with suddenly, accusing as she stood hands on her hips daring to challenge him, and he realised he'd missed the banter, they'd always been good at it. It helped that he felt a splash of the old sexual tension pinging back and forth.
"Quantum mirror!" He replied curtly, looking smug and she shook her head.
"Wrong nerd." She smirked at him. "That was Daniel."
He frowned. "No, I distinctly recall shenanigans… the long-haired blonde you."
Sam cocked an eyebrow at him. "I can't be blamed for what my doppleganger touched."
"Oh but you can." He smirked.
"Jack. I'm not arguing with you, it's pointless. Look, these things are barely robots, their programs are mostly a series of badly worded coding. The fact that they can operate at all is a wonder."
Their little group appeared a few hours of banter later. Apparently, they'd run into a spot of bother around a cemetery, a few ghouls seemed to have gotten their scent, but they'd taken a wide birth which had cost them time. Jack nodded, a 4 hour detour was impressive but it had let Carter do her thing and set up another trading post so he couldn't complain too much. Plus he'd got to poke her about some things he'd always wanted to…
"So shall we?" he asked, and looked for a leader of this little group. Non presented itself. "Where to?" he asked trying again.
"East." One of them helpfully offered, a scraggly guy that looked like he had more chems in him than blood.
"Excellent plan." He muttered. The rest looked a bit more respectable, one of them had the same ridiculous half up half down militia hat of Preston's. Another Minuteman in the making.
"General." He clapped his hand into his and they shook. "Preston's been spreading your good word wide, Minutemen are coming back." He grinned, looking all of twenty something, but his grip was strong and he knew which way to hold a rifle. "I'm Jeeves."
"Really?" Jack asked grinning, the man looked at him confused, Jack sighed, humour sucked out here, all his best pop culture was wasted. "So how many you got?" Jack asked, surprised at the numbers, he thought he'd counted maybe twenty at a glance.
"We're 17. Started out at 19, but two of the youngsters got spooked, ran off into the forest few miles back, I didn't have the resources to go after them and keep this lot together. Besides its her choice. This convoy's going East, one this size we gotta keep moving."
Jack nodded, he knew there was a lot of shit out there it wasn't his place to judge who got left behind and who got saved.
"Just the two of you?" Jeeves asked eyeing him and Carter. Jack shrugged and held up his rifle.
"Yeah but we've got some big ass guns and a plucky attitude." Jack smirked and Sam gave a thumbs up.
It should have worked. They hit the raider tower that was causing so much grief over at Lynn's wood. Made it to the top and hit the siren that drove off the damn pair of Deathclaws they had conditioned to come do their dirty work whilst they cowered at the top. Apparently, these bastards had been picking people off for almost a year now with this setup. It was going well, danger averted, Sam and Jeeves had downed one of the Deathclaws and sent the other scrambling to the hills, the wail of the siren too much for its sensitive hearing. They'd regrouped feeling somewhat smug and a little proud of themselves as they entered the Wood.
What no one it seemed had counted on, was the pack Feral Ghouls that apparently hadn't taken kindly to the fact that Jeeves and his little band of hikers had disturbed their resting places. He didn't know they could or would track over distance. But he learnt something important that day, several things in fact. That ghouls had to be killed on sight the minute they got scent of you, and that he'd rather face a Deathclaw than a rotting walking corpse. And finally that one ghoul maybe two was horrible but manageable… an entire pack of them was not.
Preston had described Feral's to him and Jack had prayed that their luck would hold and they'd avoid a run in with them and so far they had, but he supposed their luck had run out. It might have gone down different if they'd had some space to work with, seen them coming, but the Radstorm had hit so suddenly (as they did) and left them plunged in darkness inside a damn forest. Hell, maybe if he'd known about their blood hound like skills when you disturb a Ghoul nest he might have turned the group away, or set an ambush. But as usual out here he was working without a playbook, up was down and everything could kill you.
They were practically defenceless in the damn woods, spread out, caught out and lost stumbling in the near fucking dark. The electrical dust storm above choking out the light and casting everything into a gloomy red and grey haze. Perfect weather for Ghouls.
The nasty little bastards had been on them so quickly and they were silent as the fucking grave, faster than anything half-rotted away had a right to be. You couldn't see much, mostly he could just hear the screams and the tearing of flesh as one after another of his charges was yanked down and into the dark as they tried to stay together. He fired his gun almost blindly into the trees, going against every instinct he had, but he had to assume that anyone ripped off the group was dead, all that mattered was who was stood beside him, still alive and running.
It was FUBAR, the whole damn situation and he'd known instinctively, just as he suspected Sam did by the wild look on her face, that their chances of getting out this forest alive were going to be down to one thing… if you were faster than the monsters chasing them… or just faster than everyone else.
"Where the hell are they?" Sam shouted out, barely slowing as she dragged some of the others that had stayed close with them as they all ran like their lives literally depended on it, darting through the trees and jumping over roots.
"Everywhere." Jack snarled in horrid realisation that they were all going to die at this rate.
He was here to protect these people, but they'd bought this hell down on themselves, and realistically he knew couldn't save them. Not from this. But Sam… he wasn't about to watch her get ripped apart and eaten alive in some god damn forest.
Sam was the mission now.
He kept pace with her almost at her shoulder, as she fired blindly beside him as they ran flat out, gunfire lighting up the gloom of the tree cover and revealing nothing, until suddenly there was a flash of skin and teeth as a rotted body lunged for you from the dark. He was starting to suspect based on the fact that some of these fuckers seemed to be coming up from the ground that this fucking Lynn Woods might have been infested too. One pack of feral ghouls, became two as with a cry of alarm he dropped Sam's hand and leapt over one that was crawling out of the undergrowth ahead of him and shot his gun downwards as he went airborne. He landed heavily his knees not thanking him as he managed to turn it into a roll, back on his feet his eyes fixed on Sam and the small handful of people that were keeping pace with them, not looking back to see if he'd felled the thing. Sam's own handgun was flashing having slung her rifle over her chest as she fired at something charging in from the right.
The young Minuteman Jeeves almost crashed into him, emerging from the woods with a look of white-faced terror and relief at seeing someone alive. He'd lost his gun Jack noted as he shot the thing chasing him as he hurried to keep up with Sam's small group he counted five maybe; ramping down the panic he could feel with training and letting the adrenalin fuel is legs and his aim rather than his fear. The sounds of gunfire from deeper in the woods and the screaming was getting fainter as people fought their own pitched battles alone.
"General!" Jeeves yelled as he hit the ground, a white hand around his leg taking him out. Jack turned, glancing back and watched as three of the ugly ragged fuckers leapt on his back and then he was yanked back into the gloom before he'd even manage to get a shot off to help the poor lad. It was too late, Jack knew that even as he let off a blast of rounds and there was a spray of blood and an inhuman screech. But Jeeves never came out he slowed almost to a stop, before Sam was grabbing his arm.
"Move!" She all but barked at him, her voice broken with the harsh breathing from the exertion, he couldn't agree with her sentiment more as he forced his legs to work. Guilt lancing him until he slammed that in a box too and focused on staying alive long enough to feel that.
He didn't know how many there were, but when he managed to kill or wound one, it seemed there were seemingly ten more to take its place. He could smell them, like something cloying in the back of his throat, festered. The small group they'd managed to keep alive started to splinter off, or fall behind, running in their own direction despite Sam's desperate calls for them to stay together. They had guns, but not the aim at a flat out run like he and Sam had. Not to mention the fact that he and Sam were fast, fit and better nourished than most these poor bastards, they also had instincts that made them shoot at whatever the fuck was chasing them and not hesitate. The others never had a chance really.
In moments it seemed they'd lost everyone else, Jack tried, Jesus he tried, but you can't fight what you can't see not when your running flat out stumbling over half the damn forest. He saved one and another, only to have them stumble and be set upon, blood sprayed, he didn't know whose anymore. It was over… it came down to his primary mission. Sam.
He grabbed her hand, as with everything even scared out of their minds and running flat out, they were in sync, their hands moving together to help spur them forward in a downward motion as her long legs kept pace beside him.
"Don't stop, fuck don't stop." He panted, his knees aching like a son of a bitch. Sam was right there with him, the screams had stopped, so had the wet tearing sound that he knew meant that the people he was supposed to be protecting were dead. A hand clawed at him out of the dark and he shoved his 10mm at it, a spray of blood. Sam was tugged violently to his left, she punched something hard and he jolted her back to his side aiming his gun in that direction.
The sounds of gunfire and screaming in the woods narrowed down to just the desperate sounds of he and Sam fleeing in the dark, chased by the inhuman sound of bone grinding on bone and moaning wails and growls that signalled their deaths keeping pace behind them.
"This way!" she rasped tugging on his hand to change their direction, her eyes darting just the once to the PipBoy on her arm. Hell, he'd have followed her anywhere anyway and he sure as shit wasn't letting go, he just hoped his knees would hold out a little longer. Granted it was that or be torn apart and eaten alive, which as motivators go, was a powerful one. Although he had a moment, when he heard the water and saw an answering shimmer way down in the dark, where he wondered if he'd really follow her off a cliff.
His legs hit an edge. "Jump!" She screamed, even as his legs did as commanded and he was airborne. Instinct straightened him out, had him exhale sharply as the water met him his feet passing through the surface with shocking force and it took everything he had to keep
clinging onto her hand like the lifeline it was. He went under and the water was so fucking cold his whole body seized for a moment and he had to fight to the surface, dragging Sam up beside him as they surfaced spluttering. At least it was deep water he considered how bad that could have gone.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck!" Sam was spluttering between coughs and she grabbed at his jacket, clinging to him. He shook his head, trying to clear it as he focused on her swearing shaking form. Then a body hurtled into the water next to them at bone jarring speed with a screech… only it either didn't remember to brace or couldn't hold the sack of bone and rotting flesh it called a body together as it hit the water hard. The ghoul shattered on impact.
Then another, and another.
Like lemmings they leapt from the cliff face after their meal ticket and hit the water that was as hard as concrete from that height. Blood, bone, brain and bile rained down around them like confetti. He watched in mute horror as the water they were floating in turned red and the stench clawed at him.
"Jesus Christ." He gasped, Sam's face swam in front of his vision, her hair streaked with red and god knows what. They floated like that clinging to each other for what felt like an eternity as the water around them turned into a floating graveyard, both of them to numb from cold and sheer heart stopping terror to say anything.
Finally the snarling and wailing stopped as did the splashes indicating an impact until the water was suddenly calm and grotesque all around them.
"Out." He hissed, trying to force his bodies shock into movement as they swam frantically to the edge and dragged themselves out of the water. Jack didn't dare stop, maybe it was luck that had those brainless things throwing themselves off the cliffs. He had no idea if there were more. But there was no more noise, or movement and he stood on the shore, heart thudding dangerously as he listened.
Satisfied for the moment he turned back to Sam treading water in the shallow and tugged her behind him up and out of the water.
"We got to keep moving." He insisted recognising the signs of shock and maybe hypothermia setting in on them both as he fought with the disconnect in his limbs.
Sam nodded, then suddenly stopped, her hand yanked out of his and he spun in surprise to see her suddenly bend double and he darted out the way as she threw up. His hand went instantly to her back as she expelled the adrenalin and a good chunk of foul water violently for a full minute, until there was nothing left but bile. His stomach lurched and he fought his own reaction.
Her eyes raised to his, wide with horror and terror. Blood streaked her red hair and her skin and other things he didn't dare look too closely at. Knowing he probably looked the same. His hands were tacky with it as he reached for her own.
"My God, those people…" She managed looking faint.
"We can mourn for them later, right now we got to move Sam." He took hold of his rifle from around his chest his hand shaking as he held it to his side, ready, and focused on one foot in front of the other, using Sam's PibBoy as a light to cut through the gloom of the electrical storm that continued to rage above, they stumbled back to the road, heading back to Sanctuary… back home rather than seek shelter.
To be frank he didn't fancy anyone's chances if they ran into them, they looked like they'd just run through a charnel house and he was so twitchy he'd blow the head of anything that moved. Fortunately, Sam didn't seem to be in the mood to take a break. Although her silence and the deathly grey pallor were concerning, as was the death grip she kept on his hand, but then he couldn't blame her. His hands hadn't stopped shaking either. He barely remembered the journey home, his body acting on instinct only, years of training kicking in and pushing the horror down deep as he did what he did best. He got his team home.
They stumbled into Sanctuary like slasher movie survivors, there were exclamations and chatter as they emerged from the gloom. Preston had the presence of mind to get them both to the stream. At least this water wasn't irradiated anymore thanks to Sam's purifier that was still clanging and whirring away upstream. And whilst normally he might have protested the dunk in water again so soon after what had happened in the last one, but right now he just wanted to get the sticky stench of congealed blood and rotted flesh off him and Sam.
He pulled her in and held her close as he dunked them both. Running his hands over her body and scrubbing the shit off her. Their clothes were saturated in blood he realised grimly as she pushed his hands away and started stripping off with the military efficiency he knew her for.
The storm had passed a few hours ago, but the dark of night had steadily rolled in and he could barely see in front of his face until Preston shoved a lantern down on the bank and started up a barrel fire for them to warm up in afterwards.
"Preston, get us some clothes would you?" He asked the dark-skinned man stood watching them on the bank, a grim look on his face dappled with the eery firelight told him he'd almost been waiting for a horror like this to wake Jack up to the Wastelands true nature.
"What was it?" he asked but Jack suspected he already knew.
"Feral Ghouls I think, lots." Jack replied. "Rotting flesh bags that don't stop when you shoot em… right?" he questioned to make sure this wasn't something else he had yet to hear about.
"Yeah, that's them." Preston gave him a nod of understanding then turned and disappeared off whilst Jack stripped off his military cargo pants discarding them certain he'd never want to touch the damn things again, last piece of their world or not.
Sam was stood shivering, but not moving. He recognised the signs of shock. "Sam." He approached slowly the red streaks in her light hair stood out starkly still. Though she might not look like it, Sam was as lethal as he was even unarmed and spooking her wasn't wise. Hands up he stood in front of her.
"I'm going to get these clothes off, alright?" He asked, noting that she'd stopped half way through when he assumed her hands had stopped working. He got a sharp nod from her as she stared at a point somewhere over his shoulder. He took that for permission and helped lift her arms and shimmy her out of the wet filth encrusted clothes, tossing them onto the bank, probably to burn like his. When it came to the bandages she used to wrap up her chest he placed her hands at the start and gently started her hand in the familiar pattern to unwind it, as he eased in front of her, shielding her body from the eyes of literally everyone in Sanctuary that were gawping from various vantage points at them, but it was dark and at most they got an outline of them.
Preston appeared and dropped a bunch of clothes on the ground at the shore. He picked up the discarded ones, Jack half expected him to toss them into the barrell but he carefully bundled them up and started washing them out in the river for them. Marcie appeared at his side and took them off him, whilst Jack watched mutely from his position chest deep in water. He should have known that out here there was nothing wasted and a little thing like blood wasn't going to stop them from using those clothes again.
Marcie shoved them all into a bucket and with a long look at them both followed by a nod she turned and took them back to sanctuary and the campfire to scrub them out for them. Like Preston she didn't seem to know, or rather feel the need to say anything to them. As if there was a common understanding that shit like this happened and you just had to wash it off. Jack looked up expecting to see people gawping, but despite the dark, he knew they weren't, he saw silhouettes huddled around the fire, some glanced back at him, but mostly they would be left in peace and privacy to deal with the aftermath.
"Thank you." Jack called out to Preston as he turned to leave. The man tipped his hat at him.
"It's nothing. You have done enough for us, we're here for you, all of us. Get some rest, we'll keep watch to make sure they're gone." He told him, which was exactly what Jack realised he needed to hear, a flicker of doubt and paranoia had remained that maybe those things would track them back here too. Preston retreated back towards the centre of camp, leaving them to fall apart out here alone.
Jack felt some of his shell crack a little and he barked out a sob, scrubbing at his eyes furiously for a moment as if to try and shove the emotion back in and down. Sam's hands went to this wrists and she tugged them gently down from his eyes and she stood there naked and waste deep in water and he didn't care. His eyes entirely on her face, a mirror to his own feelings.
"I know." She let out a sound close to a sob and crushed him against her, dragging his head down to her shoulder and just holding him there whilst he let his own pain and shock rock out of him. He wanted to rage and scream, but this… this tenderness he wasn't sure he deserved. He'd let those people die. Horribly. They were his charge and no one had walked away. But Sam was in the same boat, she understood their pain mirrored and she needed him almost as desperately as he needed her as they clung to each other. He'd completed his primary mission at least she was alive, and they'd saved each other.
That night he'd held her, but neither of them slept, every now and again he'd feel her start to soften and doze, only to startle awake with a gasp of horror. She finally gave up the pretence a few hours before dawn and had strode outside and set the campfire going. He'd joined, mostly because he couldn't stand the idea of her out of his sight right now. He eased down next to her on the stump. They didn't speak, it was easier that way he realised grimly, after all what was there to say. They'd survived something awful, a lot of good people hadn't. It had been senseless, brutal, not like the kind of violence the military taught you to expect. He did the only thing he could, he reached out and held her hand, sliding his fingers into hers and reminded her that he was here… or reminded himself.
Jack heard the light-footed approach and turned, to see Preston stood there, he'd been on watch Jack presumed based on his gear, just as he'd promised, trying to give them enough peace of mind to sleep it off safe here at least. Preston eased onto a log the other side of the fire and didn't look at them. Not even when he spoke, his gaze intent on the flames.
"How many Ghouls were there?" He asked.
Jack scuffed his boot. "A lot, fairly sure they woke up most of Boston's Crematorium. The damn things followed them. Then there were more in the Woods, they were in the ground, rotting I guess."
Preston did look at both of them then, but Jack couldn't read the expression on his face, he wasn't sure if it was pity or wonder. "You survived a swarm. I didn't know that was possible."
Jack glanced at Sam. "Yeah not so sure exactly that we survived it."
The Minutemen leant back against his stump, stretching out to the fire and eyeing them both. "You kill them all?"
"Accidentally." Sam replied before he could.
The other man nodded. "You know, I thought I'd seen it all, but you two…" he trailed off and clicked his teeth together. "Most regular folks don't just accidentally destroy an entire pack or two packs of feral Ghouls once they've zeroed in like that. They're like a force of nature, locusts swarming over an area destroying anything with a pulse."
"Yeah well it wasn't good enough was it, everyone else is dead!" Sam snarled, her anger redirecting onto Preston who was stupid enough to go poking. "We lost the entire convoy, 17 people died in those fucking woods."
"Your both alive." Preston shrugged. "I'd say that's good enough." Sam stood all but hurling her bowl to the ground and storming away.
Jack looked to Preston. "Future kind of sucks." He offered with grimace.
Preston tipped the brim of his hat at him in acknowledgement. "You don't know the half of it."
[1 Week Later]
They'd developed a don't ask don't tell policy around the whole event. It suited Jack but he felt that for Sam suppression might not be the healthiest option. It seemed to bleed out of her in other ways, either in frustration at one of their group, or in her somewhat obsessive drive to make the sentry bot and Codsworth ever more deadly.
Sturgess came to stand beside him, drinking a bottle of flat warm beer and they both stood and watched Sam.
"She doing what I think she's doing?" he asked after few minutes.
"Yep." Jack muttered.
"You going to say something?"
He gave Sturgess a thousand-yard stare. "Nope."
"Fair enough." He shrugged and sat down on the edge of the porch his feet dangling over whilst Sam constructed what Jack was fairly certain would turn out to be some sort of short range missile turret.
"She always been this…?" Sturgess seemed to struggle to find a word.
"Focused." "Scary." They said in unison.
Jack grinned. "Oh yeah. We were sort of an elite squad, first time I met her, she damn near publicly eviscerated me for calling her a woman with just that smart mouth of hers."
"She is a woman." Sturgess frowned, and Jack grunted, forgetting they didn't seem to have gender politics here, which was refreshing and one of the only score points this place got.
Jack joined him on the floor, eyeing the unopened beer in his toolbelt and indicating for him to fork it over. He did and Jack cracked it open. Their damn nifty preservation technology had kept it sterile but it hadn't kept it from going flat. But it was beer. "God this pigswill is awful." He muttered, wiping the back of his mouth.
"Yeah, it's what we got though." Sturgess nodded. "I found a chem lab stashed out back, guess a bunch of raiders set up here once. Might be able to get a decent homebrew going. That Totte fella that came through and is bedded down across the way seems to have some skill at that, he turned some raw ingredients from the farm the other day into a solvent and some adhesive for Sam's 'Battle-bots of Death'."
"That what we calling them?" Jack's ears perked up, "Kinda has a nice ring to it."
"Yeah until they wig out and attack us." Sturgess muttered, "Machines I like just fine… robots not so much."
"Me neither." Jack replied. "Been on the wrong end of too many of them. I think we should leave the walking, talking, thinking to the humans."
They lapsed into silence, which suited Jack, he thought he was starting to see what Sam liked about this guy.
"You did good you know, getting you both back. I know those people died, but you two are important, staying alive is what you gotta do now. I mean you two save people. Like us. Just look at this place, there's a genuine town starting here." He encompassed the slowly coming together place that Jack was a little proud of, with the houses being rebuilt, the defences and his little farm. Even the BBQ pit had a homey feel to it.
"What I'm saying is, I'm glad you two survived, even if you're not so happy about it right now."
"Is that really enough for you people. Surviving?" Jack asked, because the question had been bugging him for a long time.
Sturgess shrugged. "The only other option is to lay down and die."
"True." Jack muttered, fingering the faded label on his beer.
"So, I hear the two of you aren't really married." Sturgess turned, propping an arm on his bent knee to scrutinise him.
Jack quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping to divert that line of question with a non-response. "Don't give me that." Sturgess snorted. "I get it, I mean look at her." He turned and nodded at Sam. "Woman's hotter than hell and can strip probably you and the gun your holding down to parts in seconds." He smirked. "They don't make them like her anymore, I can tell you."
Jack glanced over at Sam, it was sweltering hot and she had that damn tank top on again with a pair of leathers that really emphasised her ass when she squatted down to do whatever the hell it was she was doing to the turret. "No, they don't." he replied quietly.
"You got it bad huh?" Sturgess was persistent, he'd give him that.
"Probably." Jack sighed. "We've served together a long time, I'm supposed to be her boss. Used to make things between us… complicated."
"You been with her?" Sturgess asked casually, running his hand up his almost horizontal hair do. Mind you with a shock of hair like that he reminded Jack slightly of Elvis. With more apocalypse sheek.
"Not like that." He coughed, a little embarrassed, "We kissed, once or twice." He confessed it sounded childish like that somehow and no way explained the depth of his feelings for her.
"She's… well she left someone behind. Letting go of her old life is proving to be an issue for us."
Sturgess snorted. "Nah, it ain't." He told him with clear incredulity at what he was clearly considering to be Jack's stupidity.
Jack narrowed his eyes at the guy that was sat there claiming to know Carter better than he did after only a few months. "Scuse you." He growled with irritation.
"I'm telling you." The younger man grinned, "She's got it bad for you too. Don't tell me you haven't seen her checking you out. And no woman lets a man pretend she's their wife and spoon up behind her in bed like I seen you two night after night, without something being there."
Pressing his lips into a thin line Jack decided this was a dangerous line of conversation. He and Sam had their issues to resolve. He'd left his heart staked out in the sun for her, she'd yet to come retrieve it.
"Maybe it's time you did more than just surviving out here too." Sturgess offered with a parting look before heading over to Sam to 'help' ensure that the missiles didn't go off into the house. Jack nodded to himself, it was the same damn argument he'd used on Sam too, maybe it was time he started taking his own advice.