One month later.
Barney called her in and told her to stop avoiding work with the gang because they needed her and that he had just been handed a job she'd be good for. She tried to tell him she wasn't avoiding anything, just had her mind elsewhere. He kind of just scoffed and she could practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. He hung up and she groaned, falling back in her bed while she nursed yet another hangover.
She rolled up outside of the garage and pulled off her helmet, her hair falling down and warming her neck. She hadn't talked to Lee since that night, but as far as she knew, nothing had changed. She hoped things wouldn't be weird, and knowing Lee, they wouldn't be- but still, she was more afraid that she'd accidentally say something about it and things would go bad. She sighed and watched the breath dissipate in a little cloud around her.
She walked through the door and heard the clicking of the guns getting assembled and the usual loud banter.
"Ahh, make way for the queen, fashionably late as always," Lee glanced back at her and flashed her a grin, sharpening his knives. She offered him a smile back and moved towards her locker, hoping to find her supplies still gathering dust where she had left them. She punched in the code and pulled the lock off, looking over what she had left herself from the last mission. Her bow- her specialty- was sitting neatly at the back of the locker along with some razor sharp arrows in a quiver. It wasn't her only weapon, since it wasn't the most ideal way to deal with bad guys with guns, but it was what she had started training on when she was young and without it she felt naked. She looked down at the base of her locker and saw some of Lee's throwing knives and a bit of dread fell over her. For a solider, she really did hate confrontation.
Speaking of, Lee suddenly leaned against the locker beside her and studied her, spinning a blade in his fingers.
"Hey Dusty," he said, his voice low and light, "where've you been?"
She raised an eyebrow at him and closed the locker door, his knives in her hand. "Just been busy."
He didn't seem convinced. "Oh yeah? With what?"
"Life," she said, holding the blades up and brushing her eyes over his, "want these back?"
He looked down at them and shrugged. "If you can hit the skull between the eyes, you can keep 'em."
She looked over at the skull, a good twenty feet away. She'd jokingly let him teach her to throw a few times, but she knew she was better than she let on. She never had much reason to throw knives in the field considering she was usually perched above the team like a sniper, and when she wasn't, she had guns drawn and bullets flying. Despite the offer to show him up in front of everybody after disappearing for a month, she wasn't sure she wanted his knives. Their last conversation was still raw and loud in her mind, and she didn't like being distracted.
"I don't need them," she said, shoving them towards him, picking up her backpack and heading over to an empty table.
He frowned as she walked away. Usually she had a quick comeback or some witty remark or a dirty joke to throw around, but she seemed off. He'd be a complete idiot to brush it off as nothing all things considered, but he wasn't a fan of the idea of bringing it up anymore. His phone went off, the ringer giving him away.
She rolled your eyes as he hurried off to a quiet side of the garage, pressing the phone to his ear and lowering his voice. She pulled out some arrows and ran her fingers over the sharpened tips, kind of desperate for some action. It would be distracting, and as sick as it was- stress-relieving. She was someone else entirely when she was in the field, adrenaline pumping and guns locked and loaded. In the real world, she was a bit of a lonely alcoholic, especially recently. She wasn't wallowing in self pity or fantasizing about Lee, she just was not in any mood to deal with the stupidity of his so-called engagement and then make him feel better after he got all defensive and mean. It probably looked really bad, though, considering where they left things off. For the first time since being exposed to the Expendables when she was young, the thought of exploring other things crossed her mind. Military? Murder for hire? Maybe just a little house on a lake someplace where nobody could find her?
"You're holding in your feelings."
She looked up, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. Toll stood on the opposite side of the table, chewing on a cigar and looking over her equipment.
"It's easy to tell. You're bursting at the seams. Ever try therapy?"
"No," she said, rolling her eyes, "I don't have a lot of time for therapy."
He grunted, pricking his finger on the tip of an arrow. He winced, but there was no blood or anything.
"You gotta breathe through it. Let it out with every breath. That's what my therapist says, at least," he continued, pretty much ignoring her last statement. "Holding shit in makes you bad at your job."
She was getting a bit irritated. She pulled apart her pistol and clenched her jaw, wondering just when the fuck they'd be leaving for the hangar so she could get on the damn plane and curl up in a corner and go to sleep.
"Maybe meditating," he thought out loud, looking her over, "never worked for me. Can't stand the quiet, myself."
She let out a huff and shook her head. Toll always had a lot to say, and sure, he meant well- but this was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She shoved the arrows back into their quiver and loaded her pistol, looking around for Barney, knowing he'd have some new equipment ready for her.
"But really, talking is the best medicine. If you hold things in, they get all spoiled-"
"Toll," she said, turning to him with a snap, "please. Please, stop talking. I don't want therapy. I don't want to meditate, and I don't want to talk. What I want is a couple good shots of vodka, and not that cheap shit either. The good shit. The kind of shit I have waiting for me back in my apartment, where I would happily be, if I didn't get called in to help on a job." She shoved the quiver over her shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that the rest of the guys were beginning to stare as her voice raised.
"And," she added, lifting up a finger while she walked over and snagged a knife from where Lee had been sitting, "none of this makes me bad at my job. Actually, I think it makes me really, really good. Wanna see just how good?"
He glanced between her and the knife, confused. He hadn't intended to touch a nerve, but his lack of bedside manner was pretty severe.
She turned and let the knife fly. The guys went quiet as it flew, sticking itself dead between the eyes of the skull on the wall. Sensing any doubts satiated, she turned back to the group and focused on Toll. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged.
"Trying to be a good friend," he grumbled. He walked over to Caesar and she felt a pang of guilt again, realizing that he really was just trying to be kind, in his own little way. Barney was watching her from across the room and she shifted, a bit uncomfortable. She went to walk back towards the door but stopped short as she saw Lee in front of her.
"You must've been practicing without me," he said with a smirk, motioning to the knife stuck prominently in the wall opposite of him.
"I do a lot of things without you," she said, trying to conjure that usual snarky attitude she had. She'd been grumpy and bitter enough today already.
"Oh, I bet you do," he said, elbowing her a little as she went to move passed him.
"Some things are best left unsaid," she said, pressing her lips into a hardened smile. "You might wanna go get that knife. Never know when you might need it."
He chuckled and reached for her arm as she made to leave. She hesitated but eventually took a few step backwards, raising her eyebrows up in question.
There was a moment where he held onto her arm a little too long, a little too gently, his eyes soft as they found hers. The gentleness of his features was mirrored immediately in her own as she took him in. He let his hand fall from her arm but she didn't move, she just stared back at him, wondering what message he was trying to convey. She couldn't read him.
It was all happening within a second, but time seemed to move slower where they were standing.
"How's the arm candy?" She asked cooly, but her voice broke a bit as she tried to speak.
He shrugged, dropping his hands between his splayed out legs. "You know how it is. She's good, I'm good, we're all good."
She nodded. She didn't really get it, considering she hadn't spent a lot of time away from the guys, and anybody else she'd call family was so far in the rear view mirror that she couldn't see them anymore.
"When's the wedding?"
He shrugged. "Haven't planned much yet."
She nodded, looking back to the door as everybody else began to move out, "look, uh- I'm sorry about that morning, you know, when you came over."
He cocked his head, confused. "I barged in on you, why are you sorry?"
She shrugged and shook her head. "Just feel like I should be."
"It's alright, don't," he said, giving her arm a pat, "let's get this show on the road, Dusty."
"Sure," she said, her voice dropping and her hand squeezing her equipment just a bit too noticeably. She watched everyone laugh and head to the trucks and bikes, and for the first time in a long time, she felt unsure. Lee noticed this as he stood and grabbed his things.
"Hey," he said, shifting himself so he was blocking her view of the door, "is something wrong?"
She took a second before she snapped out of her thoughts, shaking her head and looking up at him.
"Nah," she said, stepping around him, "I'm fine."
He watched her head to the door but he didn't seem to believe a word she said. He felt guilty, wondering if he should've reached out when she didn't show for the last mission, or even just after that morning when she patched him up, hungover to high hell in her cave. How many mornings had she spent like that, and was it his fault? He thought about what she said, about his ego, and he tried to push the thought from his mind. She had also said she wasn't that kid that had a little crush on him anymore. He knew she wasn't a kid, but for some reason he couldn't understand, he didn't like the fact that the little crush that lingered between them both was gone. It was fun and cute in the beginning, and he was polite and kind to her, but after she came back from that year away and had changed so drastically, he found himself wanting to be more than polite. He felt protective, like he had to watch out for her and keep her safe. There had been times when he just wanted to yank her away from some guy in a bar and keep her locked up in the seat beside him, but he didn't really understand why that was. And yeah, it had hurt like hell when she said that stuff about Lacy, but it really put some doubt in his mind, and maybe for a good reason. He felt like he didn't know anything. Something was clearly eating at her, and he didn't want to assume it was all about him and his future wedding, but he filled with guilt as she walked out and he heard the trucks and bikes start up. He was so relieved to see her when she walked into the garage that he didn't even think twice about their usual banter- he just wanted to be normal, for his sake, and maybe for hers. Maybe if he could do that much, things would get better and would be okay.
He slung his duffle over his shoulder and headed for the door.
—-
She took her spot in the corner of the plane, curled up with some books she had in her bag and her arrows. She hated take off, mostly because that rust bucket always felt like it would rip apart at any second, but once she was in the air it was fine. The other guys, besides Barney and Lee, were all chilling in their spots, talking shit about something or other. She couldn't focus on anything, so she just let her head rest back against the wall and closed her eyes.
After a few minutes she felt someone sit beside her and she opened an eye, glancing to check who it was.
"A deals a deal," he said, holding out the knife she had thrown, waiting for her to take it.
She lifted her head and looked down at the knife, debating for a second if it was worth it. She reached out and took it from him eventually, careful to avoid touching his hand, and spun it in her fingers.
"Listen..." he started, shifting and glancing around the cargo hold, making sure everyone was busy, "I just wanna say, if it means anything, I don't hold it against you. What you said. Barney says the same shit, so maybe you're both right, but..."
"You can hope we're wrong. It's only natural," she said, focusing on the knife between her fingers instead of him.
"Yeah," he said dryly, resting his head against the wall. "I just don't want this to get between us. I like what we have going on. Like you said, you're my friend."
She nodded, finally glancing up at him. "It's not between us," she said, "and you are my friend."
"Then," he started, hesitating for a minute, "what's been going on with you?"
She just shrugged. "Just a rough patch I guess."
She wasn't sure if she believed it herself, but she didn't know how else to put it. She was still incredibly and irrationally angry that Lee was being so stupid, and maybe part of her was bitter that nobody reached out to her when she went dark for a whole month. Those were stupid, trivial things, though.
"Do you wanna talk about any of it?"
This surprised her. Lee was an emotional guy, but he never offered up vulnerability. And, sure, he wasn't offering up his own vulnerability, he was trying to tear hers right out of her, but it was still a shock.
"I don't know if there's really anything to talk about," she said, unsure. She knew it was a lie, that there was so much she needed to free herself of, but she didn't like to think about it.
"Well, you know, after this mission wraps up, we should all go out to a bar and have some fun together," he said, motioning to all the guys.
She shrugged. She'd spent a lot of time drowning in a bottle lately, but she wasn't opposed to another night of fuzzy memories and a good time. Then again, even though she wanted to keep her friendship with Lee whole, she wasn't sure drinking with him was the most enticing thing in the world.
"So you're really gonna marry her?" She asked, taking both herself and Lee by surprise. She found his eyes and watched his face twist and sink, almost as though he was trying to figure out if he should be defensive.
"That's the plan," he said finally, breaking eye contact. "You really don't like her?"
She sighed, slapping her hand down on his knee. "It's not that I don't like her. It's that I value you as my friend and think you could do better."
His phone started going off, that same stupid ringtone he always had for her.
"Speak of the devil," she said with a forced laugh, rolling her eyes.
He pulled out his phone and looked at her, smiling through whatever he was thinking. He stood up and went to answer it, turning away from her and the rest of the guys. She rolled her head back and closed her eyes again, wondering where they were going and if she'd make it back alive. She probably would, that much was clear, but she wasn't sure what would be waiting for her when she got back. A whole lot of nothing, probably. She'd probably go pick up a guy at a bar and forget his name by the time she woke up, slipping out of his apartment under the cover of sunrise, leaving a pot of coffee brewing so he knew he didn't dream her up.