AN - This is a long chapter, but it finally finishes 2x03 Compass which I have been stuck on for months if not a year! So yay :)

The character of Grace Mason of course belongs to Jem, and you can read Grace on it Jem's fic, Heartbeat Away From Death. Story ID: /10691430/

Chapter 19: Just Like You

Tom held the tent door open for Casey and let her and Etta out first, then the trio crossed to where the Berserkers were lounging. The Berserkers had spread out and claimed the raised porch space outside another warehouse. It reminded Casey of the back deck of her Grandfather's home, only with fewer cigarette butts stamped into the flooring. It was a homey space the Berserkers had migrated to, the picnic tables were even surrounded by a sweet little porch fence.

And it wasn't just the Berserkers enjoying the deck. Dai and Anthony were balancing themselves on the fence and laughing along with Tector and Boon about something. Pope was drinking in his chair, feet up on the picnic table where Lee was playing cards with Lyle. And there were a half dozen faces Casey didn't recognise helping themselves to the six-packs of beer that were being passed around. As Casey and Tom approached the gaggle of festive drinkers, Casey realized that Lee was attempting to teach Lyle how to play Magic Number Five. And by the scrunched up expression on Lyle's face, he wasn't getting it.

Casey heaved Etta's car seat up onto the table and sat the full baby bottle beside it. "How's he doing?" She asked Lee.

Lee hid behind her hand of cards. "He doesn't get it." She stage-whispered to Casey.

"That's 'cos this game sucks," Lyle said.

"Now, Lyle, don't get frustrated." Casey unhooked Etta from her car seat and lifted her out. "I'm sure Etta will teach you how to play."

"You are funny." Lyle mumbled.

Casey beamed at him and began to feed Etta her bottle. "Just keep playing." She told him.

"So, what are you guys doing?" Tom addressed the Berserkers. "We should be packing up to leave like the others."

"There you go barking orders again, Mason." Pope said from his chair.

"Not an order." Tom said. "Just a statement of fact."

"We'll start packing when we're good and ready." Pope leant back in his chair and took a swig from his beer can. "Right now it's cocktail hour! Why don't you join us?"

"Captain Weaver's orders are pretty clear." Tom said firmly. "We're moving out after Jimmy's funeral."

"Yeah, well," Pope scoffed and thumbed the tab of his beer. "I think we're all gonna pass on that incredibly empty gesture."

Casey looked towards him. She knew he was purposely being a dick, but he shouldn't tarnish the only way of dealing with Jimmy's death that the 2nd Mass could offer.

Tom seemed to be on Casey's wavelength. "God, you're an asshole, Pope." He said bitterly.

Pope laughed. "Well, I've been called worse - and far more eloquently, I might add." Pope set his can down and heaved himself to his feet. "But because I am your senior commanding officer, I hereby give you permission to attend that poor boy's memorial. And you can gently put your arms around that half-breed son of yours," Pope smiled at the anger that appeared in Tom's eyes. "And tell him it was a good thing, what he did, killing one for the Skitter team." Pope turned back to his chair.

"Where did you get that?" Tom suddenly asked.

The tone in Tom's voice caught Casey's attention. She peered over at Pope and saw him holding something around his neck. Her heart sank. It was Jimmy's compass. Pope had it, which meant he'd stolen it. "You took that?" She said to Pope. She had a hard time believing even he could be that heartless.

"Finders keepers." Pope said to her, but his smile didn't look genuine.

"Take it off." Tom ordered.

Pope seemed to enjoy Tom's anger. "No."

"I said," Tom firmed his stance. "Take it off."

"You know," Pope stepped towards Tom. "I'm getting really tired of you telling me what to do. And, ah," Pope clutched the compass. "It's not like, Jimmy's gonna need it, you know."

For a few seconds, the homey little porch space was silent. Everyone just watched the stand-off between Tom and Pope. Then Tom took a swipe for the compass and Pope shoved him away, so Tom responded with a heavy right fist right into Pope's jaw. And then it was on. Everyone watching started whooping their appreciation for the fight as

Pope gut-punched Tom causing him to double forward. Then Pope elbowed the professor in the face, grabbed him around the neck and slammed him into the side of the warehouse. The clattering noise of Tom smacking against the siding made Casey jump and drop the bottle, and Etta started crying.

Tom got shakily back on his feet just in time for Pope to run at him. The crowd parted and Casey enclosed her arms around Etta. As Pope and Tom barged through the group, Pope crushed the baby bottle with his boot, splashing milk everywhere, and tackled Tom through the balcony fence right into the windshield of one of the cars.

"Jesus," Casey swore as the windshield glass shattered under the weight of the men's' impact. She could already see both Tom and Pope were bleeding. "Stop!"

The men rolled onto the ground and lost their grip on each other, but that only gave them time to get back up on their feet with renewed energy. The excited whooping from the onlookers was dying down, but Etta's cries were getting louder.

"Take it off!" Tom roared.

"You want it?" Pope snarled. "Come and get it."

Tom launched himself at Pope, but Pope was ready for him and shifted out of the way in time to use Tom's momentum to shove him into the side of the car. Tom hunched over and Pope sent a solid kick into his ribs, but Tom managed to grab Pope's leg before the second kick landed and pulled him to the ground. Tom climbed over Pope and socked him right in the cheek. Then he punched him again. Then again and again. Blood gushed out of Pope's nose and his cheek was already swelling.

"Stop!" Casey shoved a howling Etta into Lee's arms and jumped off the now broken balcony. She didn't want to get too close, Tom was really wailing on Pope. But she knew if they didn't stop now, then they'd kill each other. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have come to his senses and jumped forwards to try and ease Tom off.

"That's enough, Tom!" Anthony grabbed for Tom but couldn't extract him, so Lyle had to help. When Tom stood free, he was holding Jimmy's compass. He looked down at Pope, a pitiful look in his eye, then walked towards the hangar.

"MASON!" Blood sprayed from Pope's mouth as he screamed. "You son of a bitch, this isn't over!" He ignored the hand Lyle offered to help him stand and got shakily to his feet. The cheers from the crowd completely ceased and the only thing to be heard around the homey little porch was Etta's screams.

It took almost half an hour for Casey to get Etta calmed down enough to feed her. Then she left her with Lee and went to find Tom. She found the professor in Weaver's tent tending to the deep cut on his forehead. Aside from that and the bruises on his face that Casey was sure extended underneath his clothes, he seemed okay.

Casey handed over the bottle of water she'd brought him. "How are you?"

"Fine," Tom took the water bottle, unscrewed the top and took a long drink. "I'll be fine."

"Well, he got the worst of it."

Tom caught her eye with a look that said he suspected she was defending Pope. "He deserved it." He set the water bottle down and went back to cleaning his wound with a handtowel.

Casey nodded. "I know."

Tom touched the towel right against his cut. "Dammit!"

Casey rolled her eyes to herself, took the towel from Tom's hand and made him sit on the foldout table. There was a first aid kit on a cot next to him, so Casey opened it up and found a small bottle of disinfectant and some bandages. She took a clean bandage and dabbed disinfectant on it, then she tilted Tom's head towards the light and gently began to clean the wound.

Tom winced, but he didn't pull away. "The Berserkers are trouble."

"No, they're not," Tom's cut was deeper than Casey realized. "You might need stitches on this."

Tom ignored her concern. "You saw what happened, right?"

"Yes, I stood right there and watched the two of you beat the crap out of each other like two very sophisticated adults. But that was Pope. Not the Berserkers. And you were the one who told Weaver that the Berserkers were just following orders."

"Maybe I was wrong."

"No, you were right." Casey swiped a streak of blood off his cheek and dropped the dirty bandage on the table. "Tom, you were gone for three months. And in three months a lot of things have changed. The Berserkers weren't even together before you jumped on that alien ship. And to be quite honest, you don't know anything about them."

"I know Pope." Tom said. "The real Pope. Not the swaggering, skitter-hating, bad boy."

"That's my point. Your judgement is on Pope, which I get. I do. I beat the guy at poker all the time, he's rude, brash and arrogant. But Pope is not the Berserkers. Tector is so loyal it's scary. Boon can adjust to a scenario like that," Casey snapped her fingers. "Lyle is deceptively sweet, and Lee may just be the coolest person I've ever met." Tom opened his mouth as if to argue, but Casey didn't let him. "You don't have to agree with me. You don't have to like them. But I do."

Tom let out a heavy sigh.

"And by the way? I like Matt, too. And Grace - I like all of your kids. And I like Maggie and Anne. And Weaver. And you." Casey poked him in the shoulder. To this, Tom gave her a smile. "I like all of you. And Anthony seems to float between everyone without someone questioning his allegiance, or whatever the hell it is you're doing to me."

Tom's smile faded as he stared down at his feet. "Have you talked to Maggie?" He asked Casey. "About Pope, I mean."

An odd feeling curled in Casey's stomach at the tone in Tom's voice. "I know she was with him before they joined the 2nd Mass. What else is there to know?"

Tom looked up, his eyes serious. "Do you know what happened to her? Do you know what Pope let happen to her? Because that's why I can't trust him." He stood up and began to walk past her. "And it's why you shouldn't want him around Charlotte."

Casey couldn't figure out how she felt as she left Maggie's tent. Sick didn't cover it, furious wasn't enough, and she couldn't shake the realisation of just how stupid she was. Maggie said she was glad Casey had talked to her about it, but Casey was pissed as to why no one had told her anything before. Maybe no one else knew how bad it was. But Tom did. That's why he warned Casey. And Casey doubted Maggie would have a heart-to-heart with Tom, so that mean someone else must know. Did they all know? If they had, did they just not care that Casey hung around him? Maybe they didn't think it was their place to discuss Maggie's past. And Casey could understand that, she could. But even just a hint, just a warning.

But then maybe they had.

Tom had told her to stay away, Maggie had told her to stay away, Weaver had told her to stay away. And she hadn't listened. She'd heard them all try and tell her to keep her distance, and hadn't listened. "You're so single-minded, Casey," her parents used to say. Her father had always given it as a compliment. "Good for the team!", he'd say with a grin. But her mother always had a rueful look in her eye whenever she said it.

There was no way around it, she had been wrong about Pope.

Casey found him sitting up on a foldout table in one of the supply tents. His face was all swollen and bruised, and he was holding a towel to stem the blood from his nose. He looked up when he heard Casey come into the tent. "Good, my lawyer's here," He tossed aside the bloody towel. "Did you pay my bail?"

Casey hovered in the doorway of the tent, biting down the inside of her lip. "I want you to know that I stood up for you," she said. "I took your side, tried to play it off as a really lame joke. Jimmy dies, this is your warped way of dealing with it. And 'cos you're you, people just took it the wrong way."

As if sensing her anger towards him, Pope gave her a nasty sneer. "That so?"

"I thought I... I don't know what I thought. Maybe that you weren't as bad as everyone seemed to think you were?" Casey took a few steps towards him. "You helped me when I asked you for help. You helped me find Etta when that skitter girl took her. You helped me learn to shoot. You helped make me a sort-of soldier."

Pope raised his bloodied eyebrow at her. "But?"

Casey felt her jaw clench involuntarily. "I talked to Maggie."

Even through the bruises, the blood, for a brief moment Casey saw the guilt cross his face.

"I knew she was with you before you joined up with us. And I knew she didn't have the time of her life." Casey swallowed hard, unable to get Maggie from her mind, or the fear Maggie must have felt then. "But what I didn't know was what happened to her. And she told me." Hot tears came to Casey's eyes, and she was happy to see Pope's smirk disappear. "She told me how your guys passed her around like a toy. Used her like some sort of communal entertainment system."

Pope's shook his head, almost laughing it off. "All she had to do was speak up, and I-"

Casey surprised herself with how hard she punched him across the face. Her fist connected with his bone and sent pain radiating up her arm, but she was so angry she didn't pay attention to it. Pope's head had flinched sideways at her punch, and when he looked back at her, his nose was bleeding again.

"I really thought it was everyone else. That I got your whole deal and they didn't." Casey let her bloody fist drop to her side. "I don't think I've ever been more wrong, more blindingly stupid about something in my whole life."

Pope scooted off the table and stood straight, an inch from Casey's face. This close to him she could smell the iron in the blood on his face, see the blue vein busted in his eye, and the smirk that Casey used to think of as charming was suddenly full of menace. "I made you a soldier?" He spat blood onto the floor beside her. "Then you should have killed me when you had the chance."

Then he shoved past her and left the tent.

News of the fight between Tom and Pope quickly circulated camp, and Weaver was infuriated. He ordered the Berserkers, Anthony, Tom and Casey into his tent immediately. He didn't even give Casey a chance to get Etta. But considering how royally pissed Weaver looked, Casey figured that might be a good thing.

Tom and Pope were still both bloodied and bruised from their fight, but Pope was looking a hell of a lot worse. Casey hoped her punch had added to his pain, but she kept her bloodied fist hidden in her sleeve so no one would see it and question her. No one had mentioned anything to her that gave her the impression they knew. Maybe Pope didn't want anyone to know. Or maybe he didn't care. After all, she had only hit him once.

Pope was standing in front of Casey, Anthony and the rest of the Berserkers, but Tom was across from them standing by Weaver. Casey waited nervously beside Lee as Weaver reiterated the facts, as he'd heard them. But as furious as Weaver was, he stated that no punishment would come from the fight. And this really stuck in Pope's side.

"This is crap." Pope directed at Weaver. "Mason disobeyed a direct order and then attacked me."

"The way I hear it, Tom made the right call last night with those Skitters." Weaver said coolly. "And as far as the fight? If it had been me, I'm not sure I'd have left you standing. So, let's call it even."

Pope let out a humourless laugh. "Have you forgotten? The man had a chip," He pointed to his temple. "In. His. Head! That, and his freak-show son had Jimmy killed!"

"Enough!" Weaver snapped. "You said your piece."

Pope was quiet for a few seconds, and then he let out an incredulous chuckle. " You know what? Me and my crew - I think we've carried your water long enough."

"You want out?" Weaver's eyes seemed to light up. "There's the door."

Pope held up his hands to Weaver, almost like he was going to start clapping, but instead he just mimed brushing his hands clean. "Let's get out of here." He spat over his shoulder to his crew, then he started out of the tent.

Casey let her injured fist free of her sleeve and grabbed Lee's wrist to hold her still, but it turned out she didn't have to worry. Lee didn't move. Neither did Anthony. Or Tector. Or Lyle. Or Boon. The only one moving was Pope. And he quickly noticed he was leaving alone. He turned to the Berserkers. "Screw you all." He hissed, and turned back to leave.

"Hold up." Anthony suddenly stepped out of line. "I'll go with you, Pope. I owe you."

"Finally." Pope eyeballed the rest of them in the line. "Someone with some brains. See you at the bikes." With that, he stormed out of the tent and out of sight.

Tom stepped up to Anthony. "You don't have to do that."

"I think I do." Anthony said. "As crazy as it sounds, the man did save my life. Besides, someone has to make sure that he doesn't double back and give the 2nd Mass any more grief, right?"

"The man's a danger to himself and to everyone around him." Weaver warned. "Are you sure that's where you want to be?"

"No." Anthony admitted. "But that's where I'm going."

Weaver sighed, and then reached his hand out. "You'll be missed, Anthony."

Anthony gave the Captain's hand a firm shake. "Thank you, sir." Then he turned to Tom, clasped his hand and pulled him into a hug. "Take care of your kids."

"Yeah," Tom clapped him on the back. "Keep your eye on Pope."

Anthony turned to Tector and raised both his fists. Tector held open his palms and let Anthony smack his fists inside them. "Take a shower." Anthony smirked.

Tector grinned and gripped Anthony's fists. "Yeah, with your mama."

Anthony moved on to Lee, who also grabbed Anthony's fists. "Man, I thought I was the crazy one." She said.

Next was Lyle. "My brother." He clasped Anthony's fists and nodded once.

"Be careful," Casey held up her open palms for him to drop his fists in. "I know you will be, but still."

"Watch your girl," He gently punched her palms and let her grip his hands for a second longer than necessary.

Casey nodded and let go of his hands. And then without another word or even another look at the faces around him, Anthony was gone.

Jimmy's funeral was at sunset. He was being buried in the playground of the tiny park beside the airport, and the whole of the 2nd Mass made the trek to say goodbye. The boy had been wrapped in a bright red blanket, and Tom, Anthony, Ben and Weaver carefully lowered him into the grave. Tom and Ben stepped back with Hal, Matt and Grace. Tom set his hands on Matt's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Then he took Jimmy's compass from his pocket and passed it over to Ben.

Weaver stood at the head of Jimmy's grave. Casey fiddled with Etta's tiny hand and looked around at the 2nd Mass. There had to be over a hundred of them now, and it was so quiet she could hear the birds twittering on the wind. It was such a beautiful sunset. One that Jimmy should be able to see.

"How do you measure somebody?" Weaver began. "How do you define their worth? A year ago, Jimmy was just a boy. Just a little boy. And then it all changed. His world fell apart. He had to step up. He had to leave that little boy behind. He had to become a soldier. He had to learn how to fight. And he did. And he is now defined by those of us who owe him our lives. He is measured by his bravery."

Casey looked up and saw the tears in Weaver's eyes, and she felt a lump form in her throat. Beside her, Anne sniffled and Casey saw Tom grab her hand.

"This day came too soon." Weaver continued shakily. "He died too young. But he died a hero to me." Weaver stood straighter and held his head high. "And I am proud to have served with him." Weaver took a step towards the pile of dirt beside grave. "Jimmy. We'll remember." He picked up a fistful of dirt and held it. "May the next world be kinder to Jimmy than this one ever was." He held the clump of chest to his heart and then tossed it onto Jimmy's body.

Hal whispered something to Ben, and then the brothers stepped forwards, picked up a handful of dirt and dropped it in the grave. Grace and Matt went next, followed closely by Tom and Anne. Lourdes and Jamil added dirt to the grave, and then Casey stepped up. She dug her hand in the pile of dirt and brought the soil up so Etta could see. The baby reached out and patted her fingers in the dirt on Casey's open palm. Then Casey tossed the dirt onto Jimmy's body, kissed Etta's forehead, and got out of the line.

It wasn't long after the funeral before the 2nd Mass were packed up to leave again. The tents had been dismantled, the cars were packed, Anne had her patients ready to move in the med bus, and Weaver had changed his mind and decided that Charleston was going to be there next destination. Before Casey joined Etta and Matt in the medbus, she found Weaver at one of the trucks near the front of their convoy and pulled him aside. "Captain, I've got to ask you something."

"What made me change my mind?" Weaver guessed.

Casey nodded.

Weaver leant back against the truck. "When I first took command of the 2nd Mass, we were 300. Now we're 176. We owe it to Jimmy and to everybody that we've lost to stay in the fight. We're just pissing in the wind here. We need to get back in the war. Seems like Charleston might be a good place to do that. Besides, a hot shower doesn't sound too bad."

Casey grinned. "Well, what are we waiting for?." She slapped the side of his shoulder. "Let's get this gang on the road."

Weaver knocked her shoulder with his fist and they parted ways. Casey turned and quickly walked back to the medbus, passing Lee, Lyle and Tector on her way.

"Need a ride?" Tector asked, offering Casey a seat on his bike.

Lee thwacked him in the back of the head. "Where would she put MB on that thing?"

Tector held up his hands. "Just askin'." He winked at Casey.

"Shouldn't be too long 'til we get to Charleston," Lyle gave Casey a half-smile. "Kid's still gotta teach me your stupid magic card game."

Casey grinned. "Lyle, m'love, I don't think you're ready for the intensity that is Magic Number Five."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Lyle climbed onto his quad-bike.

Behind them, Anne started the medbus engine, so Casey quickly climbed aboard. Matt was waving the little alien toy in front of Etta and she was trying to grab it, so Casey didn't interrupt them and instead sat on one of the few remaining bus seats that hadn't been removed to make space for the patients and gurneys. Outside, Casey could hear Weaver shouting orders, getting his soldiers moving. Then the symphony of engines from the trucks, cars and bikes rumbled through the darkness and the 2nd Mass were on the move again.

Casey sat sideways on her chair and rested her head back against the glass. As the bus bounced along the road, she thought of the little moment she just had with the Berserkers and realized how much she appreciated it. She had expected them to be pissed with her. Even though she wasn't the one who Pope had had a punch-up with, she still had this uncomfortable, outsider feeling that they would just shun her now that their leader was gone. But they hadn't.

And despite the pain in her fist, despite losing Jimmy, Anthony and even Pope, Casey smiled. Because now she realized that, no matter what had happened, the Berserkers were her friends.