Thanks again for the awesome reviews, guys :)
Hope you enjoy this new chapter! Warning, there is a brief bit of violence ahead.
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She woke first.
It was inevitable, really, her body coming alert at 0430 like the flipping of a switch, her body clock programmed by a lifetime of rising before the sun. Weller clearly didn't share the habit; she could feel his deep, even breathing, their bodies still pressed close, their shared bodyheat effectively staving off the night's chill.
Which was the sole reason why she didn't bother to move. Not to mention that extricating herself from him— his arm had come to rest over hers sometime in the night— would probably wake him, and she needed him as rested as possible for the day ahead. They still had a lot of distance to cover, through conditions and terrain that were likely only going to get rougher, and they'd have to remain constantly vigilant every moment, keeping watch for scouts or mounted bands of hostiles.
Laying there in the darkness, she made use of the time, mentally cataloguing their assets and resources as well as their weaknesses, analyzing the possible risks and outcomes with the same efficiency and precision Shepherd had always demanded. Overall, their situation wasn't optimal, but she'd certainly been through worse with Roman and their team. And with the Seals, too, now that she thought about it.
Honestly, this was really just the latest in the long line of fucked up situations that made up her life.
Though Roman would have definitely been her first choice to endure this with, she had to admit that Weller made for a good substitute, the two of them functioning efficiently as partners. She didn't trust anyone who wasn't part of her inner circle— had learned that lesson early and learned it hard— but of all the outsiders she'd ever met, she'd always mistrusted Weller least.
She'd already mentally mapped out their movements for the upcoming 24 hours— with several variations dependent on what obstacles they might encounter— when he finally began to stir, his shoulder shifting against the sand, the movement making his fatigues tickle her nose.
Irritated, she turned her face away from his back, trying at the same time to draw her arm out from under his so she could roll free. She was punished for her earlier soft-heartedness in letting him sleep undisturbed, though, because while extricating herself then would have been simple, now it was met with the obstacle of a semi-conscious man, who— judging by the way his fingers laced through hers and drew their joined hands towards his heart— was very accustomed to playing little spoon to the woman who usually shared his bed.
Flushed with a sudden anger— because that's all it was, certainly not embarrassment or jealousy— Remi yanked her hand away, and in spite of her leg wound had already rolled to her feet and stepped away before Weller had even fully sat up, his eyes wide with confusion before the pained grimace triggered by his sudden movement shuttered them, one hand lifting to the wounds on his head.
Angrier still at the unexpected stab of remorse that went through her for being the cause of his pain, she spoke coldly, her arms crossing tightly across her chest.
"At ease, Weller. The only enemy here is the dawn."
His eyes fixed on her in the gloom, mouth opening slightly, and for a second she was sure he was about to do something stupid— like mention a single word about what had just passed— her body already half-turning towards the cave entrance before his tone halted her.
"If it's dawn, then we need to get moving," he stated brusquely, and she watched with raised eyebrows as he rose to his feet, moving with a fluidity that belied his injuries and his disorientation of a moment before.
"Store the blanket and check the supplies," he ordered, then strode past her before she could speak, already clearly anticipating her intention and immediately thwarting it. "I'm going to go scout ahead, I'll be back in five minutes. If your wounds need tending, we'll do it then."
He left the cave without another word or glance, left both its protection and hers, and for a moment she grit her teeth, instinct warring with both common sense and deeply ingrained training. She was fully aware of what he was doing; better to lose one to ambush and give the other a fighting chance than to lose both simultaneously. It was textbook, literally the most basic of Basic Training, but that still didn't make her hate it any less.
By the time he'd been gone ninety seconds, she was already simmering with agitation, the neatly-packed medkit over her shoulder and her rifle at the ready, her eyes fixed on the narrow gap that led to open air— and to Weller.
The moment the five minutes ticked over, she started towards the entrance, but was halted by her name, carried in on a whisper. Weller followed it, hands up and moving slow, as if she could ever confuse him for an enemy, as if her gun hadn't been pointed to the floor before he could even fully speak her name.
Rolling her eyes, she asked curtly, "Status?"
"Appears clear," he replied, then looked her over. "Anything need to be done for your injuries?"
"No. Yours?"
He shrugged. "Seems to be holding up."
With a nod, she reached into the medkit, then held out a hand to him. "Here."
Glancing down at it, he sighed, but took the syringe without comment. Finding and uncapping her own, she calmly stabbed it into her thigh, then watched as he reluctantly did the same. Once he'd recapped it, she accepted it back from him, tucking each into their separate pockets.
"Can you pass me the—" he began, then cut himself off as she held out the canteen to him, a ghost of a smile passing across his face as he accepted it from her. As he drank, she pulled two of the protein bars from where she'd stashed them in her pocket and held one out to him, trading it for the canteen and taking a swig of her own, the action allowing her to pretend not to see the look he was directing at her.
"Seems like we make a pretty good team," he commented, sounding annoyingly smug about it.
"One would think we'd had the exact same training, or something," she answered sarcastically, her eyes fixing again on the cave entrance as she took a deliberate bite of her protein bar.
Having already inhaled his in two huge bites, he used the moment to study her, his next question surprising her.
"How did you sleep?"
"Fine," she answered, her voice as flat as she could make it. No way in hell would she ever tell him the truth; she'd go to her fucking grave before she'd ever admit that last night was the best sleep she'd had in nearly two goddamn decades.
Not that that fact had anything to do with him.
Seemingly realizing she wasn't going to return the question, he said, "Yeah, me too. Definitely better than expected, given the circumstances."
Swallowing the last bite of protein bar, she handed the medkit over to him, then turned away, trying to regain some of the coldness and distance between them that she was accustomed to. "Give me some space, I'm going to make latrine in here before we go."
Rather than making him uncomfortable, however, her attempt only seemed to amuse him. "Call out if you need help," he told her as he went, and she didn't know whether it was his clear sincerity or the trace of mischief that lay underneath it that pissed her off more.
The process actually was somewhat difficult and awkward, the inwardly-sloping angle of the cave walls not nearly as accommodating as the handily shaped boulder she'd found outside the night before, but she would literally rather die out here in this hellscape of a desert than submit to the mortification of having Weller help her go to the toilet. It was nothing to do with privacy or being missish about bodily functions; she'd let go of almost every thought of privacy and feminine delicacy long ago. Vulnerability, though— that, she couldn't handle, and in the last eighteen or so hours Weller had already seen her more vulnerable than anyone other than Roman and Shepherd had ever seen her; and even then, she'd been a teenager, not a grown fucking woman.
No, Weller had already seen far too much, had gotten far too close for comfort— and almost close enough to be dangerous.
Thankfully, she had a lifetime's worth of training in shutting people out; colleagues, acquaintances, men interested enough in her looks or body to initially ignore her coldness— they were allowed only so close as their purpose required. And the moment they ceased to have one, they were discarded, forcibly barred from her life by the many impenetrable walls she'd built up.
Weller would be no different; he was just another person with a purpose to fulfill, and then he would be gone.
The thought was meant to be reassuring— and yet, for some reason it didn't feel that way.
She gave no indication of her struggle—physical or emotional— when she joined him at the opening of the crevice a minute later, and for once he had the sense not to open his mouth. As he led the way out into the ravine, he seemed to pick up on her mood, leaving behind the easygoing guy and reverting to the hardened soldier she was far more comfortable with, his attitude all business. For the next several hours, they communicated solely by look and hand signal, their progress steady and silent as they slowly made their way southwest.
In fact, the first word she spoke after leaving the cave was his name, tearing desperately from her throat as the blade arced down to sever his neck.
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In the split second he heard her cry out his name, he knew he was about to die.
His brain didn't have time for conscious thought; didn't have time to weigh up whether her shout had been a warning or a call for help, didn't have time to choose how he should react.
He just heard the true fear in her voice, and he knew.
Because Remi Briggs was not afraid to die.
As ever, his body responded to her before his mind could, and he threw his weight forward, doing his best to roll as he hit the hard ground. The impact still knocked the breath out of him, his wounds afire with fresh pain, but the sound of something else hitting the ground hard right where he'd been standing a moment ago had him rolling instantly onto his back, the medkit shielding his chest and his K-Bar raised to fend off the attack— just as the crack of a gunshot tore through the air.
The man holding the machete dropped like a stone, his body sprawling over Weller's legs, soaking his trousers with the warm torrent escaping the bullet hole in the dead center of his chest.
He'd barely extricated himself from under the corpse when Briggs dropped to a knee beside him, her rifle still up and eyes scanning every inch of the rocky bluffs that rose around them.
"Are you mobile?" she asked urgently, barely waiting for his affirmative before gesturing with her rifle at the large jumble of boulders he had just passed, which had undoubtedly been where his assailant had concealed himself. "Grab the machete and take cover. I'll be on your six."
Obeying without hesitation, he scooped up the blade and swiftly covered the few yards to the boulders at a half crouch, where he found a naturally-formed void between two large opposing boulders approximately six and a half feet off the ground. Ignoring the sharp tug of his wounds, he swiftly pulled himself up and into the cramped space, then turned to reach down for her, finding her with her back to the rocky wall, still scanning with her rifle.
"Briggs," he whispered harshly, and finally she slung the rifle over her shoulder and turned, her hands closing tightly around his and feet pushing against the boulder's surface as he pulled her up and into the narrow space with him. Letting him go, she shoved him deeper into the gap— the action done under the pretext of making space to unsling her rifle, but he couldn't miss the fact that she was now entirely blocking him from both sight and fire.
As if sensing his thoughts, she started to speak, her words quiet but firm as she stared out into the desert.
"He jumped from here. It was a brainless move— these rocks provide good cover, but they also obscured his own view, so he could have had no idea what backup you had. Probably didn't care if another of us got him, as long as he took one down with him."
Which he so nearly had. And would have, if not for her.
"Taking the shot was stupid, and risky," she said abruptly, her voice hardening. "I should have thrown a knife— I was in range, and I would have made the target, but I didn't stop to think."
He'd never seen her so rattled, so removed from her usual control. But it wasn't panic; it was furious self reproach, as if she'd committed some great sin. Leaning forward a little, he nudged her shoulder, making her look back at him. Holding her gaze with his, he let her see the awe and gratitude he felt, let her hear it in his voice.
"Briggs, you just saved my life."
"And further endangered both of our lives by announcing to everyone in a 500 yard radius that we're here," she snapped back, her eyes fierce. "I made a call based on emotion, not logic. It's the first fucking rule of training, and I was a child the last time I broke it."
There was such a mixture of disbelief and disgust in her tone that he could do nothing for a moment but just stare at her, wondering more than ever what kind of life she'd lived before he met her. And sensing that there was only one way to focus her.
"Well, regardless of the method, I'm alive because of what you did," he told her, his words gentle but steady with certainty. "Not only just now, but multiple times in the past as well, probably more than I'll ever know about."
Holding his breath— talk about stupid, risky moves— he reached out, and laid his hand over hers where it rested on the rifle. "So thank you."
The moment he touched her, she froze, the wild look in her eyes replaced by something stony and unreadable. She didn't lash out at him, though, which he considered about as much success as he could have hoped for. Reluctantly pulling his hand away— the contact had lasted barely more than a couple of seconds— he ignored the tingling in his palm, instead turning his focus to his watch and speaking in a clipped, professional tone.
"Now, time to make a decision. What's your situational assessment, Corporal?"
This was the right move. Briggs was a soldier down to her bones, and war was her solid ground. He could feel the immediate shift in her, her shoulder brushing his as she drew a measured breath, turning back to scan their surroundings.
"One hostile, unmounted, with a short range weapon," she reported, then rattled off a perfect dot-point summary of their situation. "No indications of a settlement nearby, so the hostile is likely to be a member of a scouting party, traditionally including 5-15 militants. All are likely to be mounted and at least half in possession of long range weapons. Our options are to remain here and engage with all hostiles drawn by the gunfire, or distance ourselves from this location and hope to safely reach cover elsewhere without being detected."
As she finished, he gave a slow nod of agreement, then turned to face her. "What is your recommendation?"
Watching her, he saw her hesitate, fascinated by the uncertainty that crossed her features. Never in the five months they'd known each other had he ever seen her display even a moment's doubt in making tactical decisions, so much so that even their commanding officers had often subtly deferred to her level-headed, seemingly infallible judgment.
Something had changed in Briggs since the crash; he was seeing that more and more clearly with every hour they spent together. Another person might assume it was due to the direness of their situation, the sheer improbability of their surviving the journey, but he knew that wasn't it.
From everything he'd seen and heard, Briggs' life meant practically nothing to her.
But, he was now realizing, it seemed his did.
Holy shit.
"We stay here," she said finally, breaking through his reverie. "These boulders provide solid cover on all sides, focusing all attacks from the front only. I have a clear view of the field and will be able to eliminate approaching targets."
"And if they attack in numbers?" he asked, deliberately challenging her. "If they manage to circle the boulders and approach via our blindspots? If they set up camp and wait us out?"
He knew all of these things had already occurred to her, could see it in the grim set of her mouth, the hardness of her eyes. When she didn't immediately reply, he let out a slow breath and reached into the medkit for another protein bar, unwrapping it and handing over half. For another few moments there was silence, each slowly chewing their meager lunch, until finally he voiced what they were both thinking.
"You left out option three."
"Weller—" she began sharply, but he cut her off.
"The top of these boulders is the best vantage point for hundreds of yards, I know you know that as well as I do. Hell, probably better than I do, because you never miss a single detail of your surroundings, especially not in a hostile zone. You know that sending one of us ahead would draw out any combatants and open them up to fire from here, giving the greatest chance of survival at the lowest cost. It's the most logical choice, and you know it, Briggs."
He could feel the stiffness in her body beside his, could feel that his deliberate allusion to logic had had its intended effect, fresh anger radiating from her like the desert heat that surrounded them.
"Fine," she growled, unhooking the rifle strap from her shoulder without looking at him. "Give me the machete and I'll go. You can cover me."
"You must think I'm simple, Briggs," he said bluntly, reaching out and dropping the strap back over her head. "The squad's best sharpshooter will be the one providing cover, and that's not me. Plus, your leg is a liability. I can move faster than you can."
She didn't outwardly react, but he could see the hard set of her jaw, could sense the arguments forming on her tongue, and spoke first. "You will remain at this location and provide cover until I deem the threat to be passed. That is an order, Corporal."
Ignoring the sudden fury on her face, he pulled out the canteen and had a last, measured swallow before tucking it safely back into the kit and placing the whole lot in front of her.
"The medkit will stay with you, too. No point risking the supplies falling into enemy hands," he said, both of them fully aware that he was referring to his own possible death. "Now go. I'll help you climb to the top."
Briggs didn't move. She remained still as the boulders around her, blocking his exit into the open, her gun still up and ready.
With a small, inward sigh, he shifted awkwardly in the small space until he was kneeling beside her, head bowed to avoid the low ceiling, her shoulder almost brushing his chest as he quietly spoke her name.
If possible, she had gone even more still, and he wondered if she had actually stopped breathing. When her eyes turned at last from the terrain that stretched out before them, her gaze met and held his, their faces barely a handful of inches apart.
Now it was his turn not to breathe. Her eyes bored into his with an intensity that was entirely different from the one he was used to, the ever-present anger and determination now joined by something else, something that struck more deeply at his core than her hatred ever had.
"If you die, I'll fucking kill you, Weller," she said, her voice low and severe, not a trace of joking in her tone. "Give me a sixty second lead, then go. Move fast and stay low."
With that, she broke the eye contact that had held him bound, turning from him and exiting their shelter in one smooth motion, slinging the medkit and rifle onto her back as she disappeared from view, leaving him alone.
A quarter of her allotted sixty seconds had already passed before he fully recovered himself, and he gave his head a shake to regain his focus before doing a quick check of his weapons, listening all the while for gunfire. The minute ticked over in nothing but silence, however, and at its end he took a deep, slow breath— then swiftly turned and dropped to the ground below, his life once more solely in her hands.
And then, he began to run.
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Oooh, for all her big talk, Remi sure seems worried about Weller's safety... :P
Also there's probably a better term for the weapon than 'machete' but it was the best I could come up with haha.
As always, thanks for reading! And get ready for a bit of action next chapter!