Vietnam, 1970

Barney walked towards the campfire after spending a couple of days sleeping and sweating off the fever. The wound was actually starting to look healed, too. He changed the bandages as regularly as he could and tried to think up some sort of excuse to go back to the medical barracks just to catch another glimpse of Lucie. He'd thought about her a lot. He wondered about her story and what led her to where she was, serving beside a bunch of guys that really didn't wanna be there. Most of them had been drafted. Barney avoided that fate by just enlisting; he was always a fighter and a bit headstrong. If he was gonna be a soldier, it would be his own decision. That was years ago, though.

He didn't realize that decision would decide the rest of his miserable life, but most people don't see fate until they're blessed with hindsight. That was the problem with things like that- fate, destiny, what have you- you never see them for what they are until it's far too late to change any of it. Barney figured he'd return to the states when he served his time or whenever that endless war ended and find a nice place to settle down. He wasn't much of a family man, but a nine-to-five with something to look forward to at home didn't seem so bad compared to the swampy hellhole of the jungle. Hell, anything seemed better than that. But he had to admit that he kind of formed a taste for the rush. He hated the bugs, though. He swiped at a mosquito near his neck and trudged through the mud towards the small group around the fire.

"-and I couldn't even see anything over all that fog, but damn, I could hear that yelling and those bullets flying. I had half a mind to stay put right where I was and wait until someone found me. But just as fast as it started, it all ended. It's weird shit being out there. Nothing like it."

Barney huffed to himself. Conrad was always going on about something or other like that. He was like Barney; he'd enlisted out of high school instead of waiting around for the draft to scoop him up. They had a lot in common, Barney and Conrad. Barney was wary of him, though. He wasn't sure why. When his voice wasn't filling the air, the crackling fire and humming insects did. The jungle was muggy and dark, but it played a siren-symphony for anyone who would listen.

"Barney, my man!" Conrad called, standing from his overturned bucket and hurrying to pat him on the back. "Risen from the dead!"

"Hard to rise when I never died," Barney grunted, pressing his lips into a sour smile.

"Sure, sure. How are you?" He asked. "Barney here caught some shrapnel to the arm when we were ambushed on our last outing. Damn guy kept shooting, though. He's got a killer aim."

Barney waved him off and looked over the group. He recognized some of them, but he had never had full conversations with any of them. The haze of the fire cast an orange glow over everyone's faces and masked the uneven tans and lines of dirt with gold. Conrad threw an arm over his shoulders and smiled.

"What's the matter Barney? Cat got your tongue?"

Barney shrugged him off and smiled. He grabbed a seat next to Conrad and accepted the beer that was handed to him. He glanced over to the side, and that's when he caught her staring.

Lucie. She was wearing her uniform again, and her hair was a little bit mussed from a long days shift. The glow from the fire was almost like a halo around her and her smile was like a beam of light. She looked away shyly, fiddling with the beer in her hand.

"When are you all going back out?" Someone asked. Barney wasn't sure who. He wasn't paying attention to anything anymore. Lucie was there, and suddenly his chest felt tight and he was nervous.

"The next few days, I'd imagine," Conrad said simply. "Now that we got Ross back on his feet, all thanks to Miss Lucie here."

Barney blinked and looked towards Conrad as he said her name. Had he known? Was Barney that easy to read? Or was he just being paranoid? Damn Conrad and that silver tongue. He was impossible to get a good read on.

"Oh, stop it," Lucie said, waving him off. "I just did my job, just like you all do everyday."

"Ah, but you're good at it," he retorted.

"Right. I guess if you were all so good at your jobs, you wouldn't really be needing us around anyway."

The group laughed and Barney had to chuckle. She caught his eye and he wondered if it was the light from the fire or if she had blushed. He wanted to get just a little bit closer, just enough to see for himself.

"They better watch out back home when this war is over," Conrad said. "They've got a handful coming back to them with you, Lucie."

Lucie rolled her eyes but she was smiling. The gel in her hair was cracking and flaking from sitting in place all day long and Barney wondered what she would look like with her hair out and down. He didn't think that imagining it would do her justice.

She met his eyes and he blinked, realizing that he was caught staring. He looked away quickly, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing daydreaming about a combat nurse when he'd probably be shipping off back to hell come sunrise. He needed to get his head back in the game if he wanted to live.

"Here's to making it back in the first place," Lucie said, raising her beer, her face growing more solemn and serious. "Here's to hoping we can do it, and here's to the ones who won't."

Conrad nodded and glanced to Barney as he lifted his own bottle in the air. Barney did the same, and so did the other soldiers around the fire. Barney thought to himself that this wasn't a war so much as it was a massacre. How many people had been buried? Missing in action? Their skeletons decorating the jungle floor until the brush and dust covered them up? There was no proper burial for a man dead in hell. All Barney ever wanted was to be buried right. Maybe fate would afford him that one simple luxury.

"Yeah, and here's to leaving the damn jungle in our rear views," Conrad added, nudging Barney slightly. "I'm ready to never see another damn place like this again."

Barney nodded. He tried to think of one good thing about the place, but his mind was running up blank. He supposed the best part so far was the people he met. Conrad Stonebanks was rough around the edges but he had his moments, and him and Barney worked really well together. Lucie, of course, was a good thing. She was probably the best thing within a five hundred mile radius. He felt stupid about the thought because he didn't even know her, not really- not yet. He wanted to. He cleared his throat.

"The jungle is dark but full of diamonds," Lucie said, sipping her beer and setting it down beside her. Conrad perked a brow and held out a hand, confused.

"You a poet or something?" He asked.

"It's from a play," she said, scrunching up her face like his words smelled sour to her. "Death of a Salesman. The world is bad, but… there are some good things in it."

Barney couldn't help the smirk that twitched over his face. So Lucie liked theater. Or maybe reading. Maybe both. He made a mental note.

"Ain't no diamonds in that mess," Conrad said, looking to his feet and shaking his head. "Just a whole lot of pressure minus the million years."

"Who's the poet now?" She asked, smiling.

Barney caught the way Conrad's eyes shone when he looked up and caught that smile. It made a pit settle in his gut. Jealousy, maybe. Barney threw back the rest of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His stubble scratched against the dry skin. Maybe he had read Conrad wrong earlier.

The jungle was dark. Lucie was the diamond. And Conrad was one greedy son of a bitch.

—-

Present Day

Tool, Barney, and Lee stood staring at each other in a bit of a standoff. Sammy hadn't acted like that in… Well, in a long time. A really long time. She'd gotten really good at coping with things, but she was always coping with the same stuff; Riley, the mission, her own shortcomings from before. Maybe there was something new. Lee took a step away from Barney and looked to the door.

"What the hell?" He asked.

"I'm not sure," Tool said, snapping the tension in the room. He looked towards her desk and saw the opened envelope resting on her appointment book. He lifted it between two fingers and looked it over. "But she was looking at a piece of paper. Couldn't catch a glimpse at what it said."

Barney settled into his hips and sucked in his cheeks. His mind was still stuck on his thoughts from the night before, when his mind was playing tricks on him and digging up memories he'd tried to bury as deep as he could. He wasn't in the mood for Sammy to revert back to her old self right then, but it wasn't like she was choosing to be upset by whatever she was upset about. Lee was looking at him, and he realized that he was trying to ask him something.

"What?" Barney asked, snapping back to reality. The fire was still burning in the back of his mind. His upper arm still itched.

"I said, do you have any idea what she might have seen?" Lee asked, too distracted to note Barney's vacant stare.

"Not a clue. We haven't had any luck with our hunt for the Major. How're things in New York?"

Lee scratched the back of his neck and huffed. "I don't know. I never ask."

Tool sighed and set the envelope back where he found it. He gripped his chin and rested his other hand on his hip, thinking. He tapped his lips with his pointer finger, one of his rings scratching against his chin.

"Alright. Should we go find her?" Tool asked.

"I'll go," Lee said, pacing a few steps before he paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You're full of bad feelings," Barney grunted, turning back to his bike. "Don't think too far into it. It'll get you killed one day."

Lee furrowed his brows and glanced at Tool. He shrugged.

"I've course I'm thinking into it. It's Sammy," he said.

Barney fiddled with one of his tools and spared Lee a glance. "I'm just sayin you have a lot of bad feelings."

"And they usually save your ass!" Lee said, exasperated. "What is wrong with you today?"

Barney tightened his jaw and turned around and was about to say something when the front door opened back up with a bang. They all turned and saw Sammy walking in, gripping the paper in her hands, drying tears stained down her cheeks. Lee felt his heart sink and he started moving towards her.

"Sammy," he said, concerned. "What is it? What happened?"

She looked down at the letter in her hand and swallowed.

We regret to inform you of the passing of Olivia "Bee" Taylor.

"I have a mission," she said, sniffing and drawing in a breath. She straightened herself and smoothed down her shirt. "Sorry for running out. I needed a minute. But I have a mission."

Tool shared a glance with Barney and then sighed.

"Well, what is it then?" He asked. Barney tucked his thumbs into his belt loops and waited. Lee furrowed his brows, worried, and tightened his hands on his hips.

She took a few steps towards him and pressed the paper into his chest. He took it, confused, and she stepped back and bit down hard on her lower lip to keep it from shaking.

"I'm going to pack," she said, her voice thick with repressed emotion, and she shouldered by him and gathered her bag from near her desk. She didn't spare Tool a look even though he watched her the entire time, waiting.

Lee looked down at the note. He barely remembered Sammy ever mentioning Bee, so he wasn't sure why she was so broken up. Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it was bringing up memories of Riley. He couldn't say, but the letter seemed pretty clear: she was dead. What was Sammy's end goal?

"Sammy," Lee said, turning and holding the letter out to his side, motioning to it. "What's the mission?"

She didn't answer as she shoved a few things into her bag. She tossed it over her shoulder and turned, finding all three of them watching her. The letter in Lee's hand was crumpled but it still caught the gentle breeze from the fan that was always running.

"Because it isn't true," Sammy said, standing her ground.

Lee swallowed and looked back at the letter.

"It looks… It looks true to me," he tried.

"It's not," she said sharply, hefting herself back towards the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed.

"Sammy, look, I know this is hard- she was your friend- but you can't chase a ghost-"

She tugged herself away and met his eyes, seething.

"There are no such things as ghosts," she spat, her eyes burning with anger and determination. "I've been around long enough to know that if something goes bump in the night, there's usually a good reason for it. Bee is not a ghost. Bee is not dead."

Lee sighed and let his hand fall to his side. He could see in her eyes that he wasn't winning this one. She was inconsolable. Convinced.

"Okay, okay," he said, lowering his voice. "Let's look into it before running off. Alright?"

She sucked in her cheeks and searched his eyes. She didn't think he meant it.

"What is it?" Barney asked, reminding them that there were still other people in the room that didn't actually know what was going on.

"Bee was my friend at basic," Sammy said, her eyes still focused on Lee's. She was trying to read him, to see if he believed her at all or if he was just trying to diffuse a situation.

"And?" Barney asked.

"And this letter says she was killed in action," Lee said, breaking the eye contact and glancing back at Barney. He waved the paper vaguely in his direction.

Barney sighed.

"But she isn't dead," Sammy said.

"How do you know?" Lee asked, glancing at the words again. "There's not much here. Just that she's gone."

"Because I know," Sammy said. "She can't be dead. Bee is good. She'd good, Lee."

Barney pressed his lips together and let his head hang.

"Sammy, look, I know it's hard to lose people…" Barney tried, attempting to gather his patience. "But we can't launch an investigation just because you're in denial."

Sammy snapped her attention to him, the water in her eyes catching in the light.

"So you expect me to just believe this when the only evidence I have is this piece of paper?" She asked, her voice breaking. "What if it was one of you? If it was Lee, and you got this letter-"

"But it isn't," Barney said, his voice firm. He held out a hand to stop her. "It isn't Lee, and it isn't one of us."

"Exactly, you don't know her, so suddenly it doesn't matter," Sammy said. "But she mattered to me. She matters to me. She was what came after you. And if it was one of you, I'd do the same thing. I wouldn't stop until I knew for damn sure."

Tool moved closer cautiously. Sammy glanced sidelong at him and stiffened.

"We know that," Tool said. "But give yourself some time to process this-"

"I don't need to process it. She isn't dead."

"-To process the possibility that-"

"She isn't dead."

"-The possibility that she was killed."

"She isn't dead!" Sammy snapped, spit flying from her mouth. She turned to him, her face red and pulsing. The vein in her neck was popping.

They went silent. Tool and Sammy were locked in a battle of wills. Tool's jaw shuddered slightly. He was losing.

"Sammy-" Lee tried, reaching for her arm, but she shook him off.

"Why did you trust him?" She asked, her voice straining in her throat. She took a few steps towards Tool and he froze. His lips were parted like he wanted to speak but he didn't. He just stared.

"Why did you ever trust him?" She asked again, jamming her pointer finger into his chest. "Did you know he would do that?"

"I wouldn't have sent you if I knew," he said. "Ever."

She watched him. She wanted to believe him, but her emotions were running high and she needed somebody to blame. She settled for him.

"How do I know?" She said, clenching her fists and squaring herself up to him. "How do I know?"

"Sammy-" Lee tried.

"No!" She said, hands shaking. "We never talked about this. We need to talk about this."

"You're upset," Tool said. "I get it. It's alright."

"I trusted you," Sammy said, stepping back. "I trusted you to help me. Everyone could've died."

"I didn't know," he said. He sighed and shook his head and shrugged. "I didn't know."

Barney took Sammy by the shoulder and gripped her tight. She looked to him, tears catching the light, and he shook his head.

"Not the time, Gogh," he said. Sammy's first instinct was to fight back, but her anger was slipping into sadness and she sunk in on herself slightly. She glanced towards Tool in time to see a tear slip from his eye. Lee hesitated. It wasn't often he saw Tool cry.

"She isn't dead," Sammy said, pulling herself away from all of them. "I'm going to pack."

She backed away and turned to go through the door. Lee looked after her, still confused, and then looked down at the paper again.

Barney turned to Tool, but he was already walking towards the stairs to his apartment, his jewelry clinking as he did. Barney sighed and went back to his bike. He'd make a few calls tomorrow if he really had to, and they'd probably talk to all the guys once Sammy cooled off. He hoped she did. They needed Gogh when it came to the job, not Sammy.

—-

Lee left not long after Sammy took off. He still had the letter and he was trying to remember everything she had said about Bee. She was younger, he knew that. She cared about her. She wanted to find her somehow, once they found the Major and put that mission behind them. But that was all she had ever said about Bee, except that she wasn't dead. Lee didn't know what to think about that.

He walked through the door and cleared his throat. The house was quiet. He set his stuff down on the floor by the door as he locked it behind him. He moved into the kitchen and looked around. The little battery-powered tea candle was still glowing and flickering in front of Riley's pictures. He sent a silent plead up to her, wherever she was, to help Sammy. Grief was hard alone. It was even harder when it repeated itself.

"Sammy?" He called, setting his keys down on the countertop with a little jingle and scanning the living room. It was all like they'd left it. He moved towards the hallway and noticed that the clothes he had put in the dryer the night before were yanked out, a few socks scattered around the floor leading to the bedroom. He sighed.

"Come on, Sammy," he said as he walked into the bedroom. But she wasn't there. Her go-bag was half packed and sitting unzipped on top of the bed, clothes stuffed into it and sprawled throughout the room. He furrowed his brows and scratched at his stubble. "Sammy?"

He turned towards the bathroom across the hallway and noticed the door was open just a crack. A rush of ice cold fear settled in his neck and trickled down his spine. He could remember Gunner calling out, holding her limp in the freezing cold shower, trying to get her to throw up the pills she had forced down her own throat. He felt dizzy. How far behind her had he been? Did he have any first aid in her house? Maybe in his house, next door, but he had practically moved out to be with Sammy while they worked on fixing everything he had messed up. He took a breath and then snapped back to reality. If something was wrong, he needed to act fast.

He surged forward and knocked the door open. He looked around in a cold panic, expecting to find her half dead.

He saw her sitting in the bathtub, dressed in her pajamas, cradling her head in her hands with her fingers tangled up in her short messy hair. He held his breath for another second before he sighed and moved to kneel beside her. He had to remind himself that she was alive and breathing and this was not like last time. Sammy had never been convinced that Riley was alive; she'd seen her, held her body, and tucked her in to sleep. If that's what it would take to help her move on then he'd have to find a way. He just wanted her to be okay. To be happy.

"Sammy," he said, his voice low. He knelt besides the tub and placed a hand on her knee. She sniffed and shook her head. "It's alright. It'll be alright."

She looked up and found his eyes. Her cheeks were read and her eyes were puffy and swollen. It was obvious she'd cried a lot more once she left he shop. He reached up and carefully stroked the side of her face, gently twisting a strand of hair between his fingers as he did. She closed her eyes and leaned into him.

"She can't be dead, Lee," she said. He could remember her saying things like that when Riley died. It made him feel wrong that she had to go through it all again, especially so soon. "She isn't."

Lee sighed and took her face in both of his hands. He didn't want to say anything to make it worse, but he didn't want her to hold onto such a dangerous hope. He knew what it could do to someone to keep somebody alive by only pure will.

"It'll be okay. I love you," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. The words still felt right falling off of his tongue. They both still had a lot of healing to do together, but Lee never questioned his love for Sammy. He thought back to his decision to retire and figured he'd have to put that conversation with Barney on hold. It seemed like the last thing the man needed right now, anyway. He made a mental note to ask Barney what had him so bothered lately.

"Please believe me, Lee," she said. "She isn't dead."

He searched her eyes. The words felt genuine, but that could be a trick of the denial, a trick of the grief.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"I don't know how to explain it," she said. She wiped her eyes free of new tears and gripped his forearms. He instinctively checked her for scars or cuts, but there was nothing except the ones that had been there already. He felt a bit of weight lift off of him at that. "I just feel it. She isn't gone. With Riley… I felt it. I felt whatever she was- her soul, maybe, I don't know- I felt its absence. Bee isn't dead. She just… she isn't."

Lee swallowed. A gut feeling. It would be hypocritical of him to deny her that after everything. He supported her weight and lifted her up into his arms. She sunk into him, clearly worn out and tired, and he nodded.

"Okay. Okay, we'll look into it."

"Thank you," she said.

"Let's just get some rest. We'll see how you feel about it tomorrow," he said.

She didn't respond. She let him help her into bed and stayed silent as he put the go-bag and clothes away. By the time he climbed in beside her, she had fallen fast asleep, her body almost inhumanly still. Even resting, the stress and emotion was written all over her face. He brushed his hand along her neck and then turned onto his back to look at the ceiling in the dark. The blinds were closed to block out the daylight, which was still sparkling in all its southern summer glory. He wasn't tired, but he wouldn't leave her there alone. He'd made a promise to himself about that. He'd never let her be alone again.

He tried to consider what it would mean if Bee was actually still alive. There would definitely be some major red flags there, since somebody clearly wanted Sammy to get involved or to think she was dead. But Lee still had a sinking feeling that Bee was gone. Maybe it was a freak accident. Maybe it was gunfire. It had said she was killed in action.

He also thought back to Tool's face when Sammy dropped the bomb on him that she blamed him for getting her involved with the Major. Lee knew that she loved Tool and would never try to hurt him like that if she was in her right mind, but he had to admit… He didn't get why Tool trusted the man. He must've been a good guy at one point, or as good as anyone could get in this business. But even Barney had been betrayed before. Most people went where the money was. Lee couldn't fault them for that, even if he wasn't sure he could do it himself. He felt rich enough in ways outside of just money; he had the Expendables, he had Sammy, and he had everything else he could possibly need. That was why retirement was starting to feel like the next logical step.

Lee looked down at Sammy and sighed. It seemed so useless to plan for anything anymore. Life was so unpredictable. There were good things buried somewhere in it, though. He knew there was. He had found one. Sammy was his good thing.

He really hoped that would never change.