Disclaimer: I do not own Jane, Neil, or any other TSW characters that appear in this fic. The rest of the students belong to me, I guess.
Author's Note: I'm sorry this one is taking so long to write! I haven't been in the mood for romance, and I didn't want to spoil the story by just rushing through the chapter. Also, it had been nearly complete around October, but a disk problem erased the chapter and I had very little of it hand written. So it's taken me quite awhile to work up the will to do it all over again, and it still isn't as good as the original. It's also become something of a filler chapter, which is why it's so short. The next chapter will be better, I hope. And it will come soon! No long wait for it, I promise!
LIFE'S RIVER SHALL RISE
Chapter Three
Only the Strong Survive
Year One: 2056-2057
Neil nearly missed reveille the next morning. Fortunately Jason, in the bunk below him, stole Neil's blanket and refused to let him get back to sleep once he finally reacted.
"So you did it, huh?" Jason asked as Neil wearily slid out of bed and mechanically began the morning routine.
"Yup." Neil rescued his blanket and proceeded to make his bunk.
"Were you scared?" Jason asked eagerly. Behind him, the older cadet Ted rolled his eyes.
"He was behind a barrier the whole time," Ted said calmly. "What's there to be frightened of?"
"Cadet Proudfoot," Neil and Jason said in unison.
Ted laughed. "All right, you got me there. She even scares some of the cadets in my year group!"
Now that Neil had proven himself, the second-year Jason and Third-year Ted were warming up to him, it seemed. Unlike Michael Harrison, who was sullenly going about his own morning preparations. His brother had taken him two weeks ago. He'd made the shot - even Cadet Captain Harrison wasn't stupid enough to lie to cover for his brother - but he'd obviously been hoping Neil would prove to be a coward.
"The Phantoms are ugly bastards, aren't they?" Ted mused. "It's strange to actually see them. This close to the barrier, the energy rubs off on 'em and makes them visible. Just imagine fighting them under normal circumstances."
Neil shuddered. Fighting a foe you couldn't see had caused the death of millions already. "Spooky thought."
"I'm sure you can handle it," Michael snarled behind them. "After all, you're the Great Neil Fleming, and anything you can't fight off, your macho-chick girlfriend will kill for you."
Neil bristled, but refused to rise to the bait. The reminder, however, made him think of the previous night. Jane had nearly died... how was she? Just how badly had she been injured, anyway?
* * *
Her leg ached that morning, and Jane seriously considered skipping the morning exercises to go to the infirmary. The doctors were aware of the initiation rights and would ask no questions. Besides, her arms were sore from supporting her weight, and she was dead tired, too.
But a Deep Eyes soldier would face more strenuous conditions, and Jane refused to acknowledge any weakness. Only the strong survived in this world, and Jane wouldn't, couldn't be weak. So she followed her roommates out into the quad area, barely concealing her limp. She didn't fool Freddie, however; she could tell from the concerned glances the older girl kept giving her. Jane just braced herself against the pain and joined her year-group for the morning exercises. Neil, she noticed after a quick search, looked tired but none the worse for wear. Lucky bastard.
Stiffly, Jane began the morning warm-ups. Her jerky movements were obvious among the smooth motions of her fellows, however, and she had to struggle to keep up with them. It's just a scratch, she told herself angrily. Maybe, but it hurt like hell. Skin had been scraped away along her thigh to just below her knee, with a deep, jagged scratch in the middle. She'd cleaned it and bandaged it a few hours before, but she began to doubt that was enough. I just need to get through the drill, then the rest of the day will be easy.
Unfortunately, her body had other ideas. Her leg suddenly went numb under her, and she toppled over with a cry. A couple of the cadets snickered, and Jane fought back tears of pain and frustration. Soldiers don't cry! Don't cry… never cry… She tried to get back to her feet, but the drill sergeant ordered her to lie still. When he saw the dark stain of blood on her pant leg, he swore and ordered a couple of cadets to carry her to the infirmary.
Carried… She'd never felt so embarrassed in her life. Two burly male cadets carefully lifted her and carried her away. Her face was flushed by the time she was handed over to the medic, and when he berated her for her carelessness, her embarrassment only worsened.
But her embarrassment was nothing to what she felt when the doctor had finished checking her over. The jagged edges of metal that had scraped her leg had caught on her knee, tearing a ligament. She was going to need surgery… and it would take weeks to heal.
"No…" Jane whispered with horror. "Not this…"
"It will heal, and be as strong as it ever was," the doctor assured her gruffly. "But only if you don't try anything stupid again. You should have come straight here after the accident. You're very lucky that you didn't further hurt yourself during the exercises."
She was a cripple… Her military career was ended before she'd even finished her second year! She was so overcome by her shame that she barely heard the doctor's assurances. Sure, she'd heal. But it would be a long time before she would be able to continue her physical training. I won't cry… I won't!
She only half listened as the doctor told her he was going to get a leg brace for her, and that she'd be on crutches for awhile. How could she bear this? There were cadets who would laugh to see her like this! Laugh at the great Jane Proudfoot, the general's daughter who was going to be a Deep Eyes soldier, who couldn't even walk around without assistance. Her shoulders shook as she fought to hold her tears, to keep from screaming at the unfairness. Yes, she could still attend classes, but what was the point? There would be no drills. No weapons class. No honing the skills she really needed as a soldier.
Jane was silent as the doctor set up an appointment for her surgery in two days time. She didn't say anything as she listened to his instructions on caring for her wound. She only wanted out of there, and as soon as he dismissed her, she hobbled – hobbled! – down the halls towards her room. She ignored the smirks and sniggers, the whispered comments as she awkwardly made her way down the corridors.
When she made it to her room, she collapsed on the nearest bunk and stared listlessly at the wall before her. It would be months before she would be well enough for anything. How was she going to survive?
* * *
It hurt Neil to see Jane limping around like a cripple. Seeing the dejected look when her year-group went to fighting practice bothered him even more. It was his fault! Rumor had it she was going in for surgery on Saturday. Which meant she was hurt badly… very badly. She'd be missing out on half of her classes.
And she blamed him. At least, he assumed he did, from the bitter look she gave him when he'd offered to carry her books to class that morning during breakfast. She'd given him a frosty look and told him she wasn't attending classes that afternoon, then had ignored him. He couldn't blame her, really.
But he couldn't stop worrying about her. That afternoon, during one of the classes he'd shared with her, he'd been unable to keep his mind off her. His gaze had kept sliding towards the empty desk where she'd normally sat, and he'd been unable to concentrate on what the teacher had been saying. And he knew he'd failed the quiz.
By lunch, he couldn't take it any more. Rather than heading towards the cafeteria with the rest of his classmates, Neil slipped off to Jane's room. He knew where it was from his weeks of shadowing her, but he'd never entered before, and he hesitated outside the door. Could he do this? What could he say? Yes, he'd saved her life, but what was the price? Gathering his courage, Neil raised his fist to knock.
"I wouldn't," a voice warned him. Neil froze, turning towards the speaker. It was one of the older girls who roomed with Jane, Winnifred or something. The tall redhead was eying him coolly, and Neil cringed under her gaze. "She won't speak to anyone," the third-year continued. "I don't know what happened to you two down there, but it's probably best if you just stayed away from her." There was a strangely thick note to her voice as she added, softly, "She may not be here much longer."
Neil's heart dropped to his knees. Was it really that bad? From what Neil knew of Jane, she took her training seriously. Had her dreams been shattered because she'd been forced to take him out for some stupid ritual? It had been his fault she'd been so angry she hadn't been looking where she was going… how could he live with himself if she left the academy for good?
"Just leave her alone, Cadet Fleming. Go away." The older cadet turned her back on him, and walked away. Shoulders slumped, Neil went to his room. He didn't feel like eating… or facing any more accusations.
* * *
"How is your knee, Cadet?" Major Wilkes's voice was neutral, but Jane thought she could detect a note of concern. And why shouldn't he be? she thought bitterly. A general's daughter was crippled under his care. And he knows how I did it; knows how deadly the area beneath the city is, but he permits us to go down there anyway. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, wishing she could face the major on her feet.
"It hurts," she said bluntly. Her gaze slid to the crutches leaning against the chair, and she grimaced. She'd have to use them for so long… "The surgery went well, though" she added, knowing that was what the major was really asking. Though why he wanted to hear it from her, she didn't know. He already had the doctor's reports. What did he want to know about; the fear of being put under the knife? The knowledge of waking up in the recovery room and knowing she'd still have weeks of healing ahead of her? The hurt that so few people had cared? The messages from her parents had been so… short, so callous… As if she didn't matter at all. "I'll live."
"But it will be almost a month before you'll be able to take part in any physical activities," Major Wilkes said, coming straight to the point. "What are you going to do in that time?"
There it was; the question that had been nagging at Jane since she'd first come out of the doctor's office. Should she stay here and watch her fellows continue with their training while she sat on the sidelines, struggling with her homework and studies? Or should she call it quits and go home for the rest of the year?
Or forever? Her leg may never heal correctly, though the doctor seemed confident it would heal properly given time, if she followed his instructions. But what if it didn't? What was left for her if she couldn't be a soldier? It had been her dream ever since she'd been a child, watching her father with the ranks of soldiers under his command, looking so proud and heroic… doing more for the world than anyone else Jane had ever seen. How she'd longed to be one of them! But now… She was ruined before she'd even faced her first battle. Her family would understand her decision to go home, to give up and find another way to help… but she'd never forgive herself. That would be giving up, and soldiers never gave up.
"I want to stay, sir," Jane said softly. "If I'm not being a burden."
Major Wilkes actually smiled. "Your instructors say you're one of the best; I'd hate to lose you." Jane started at the major's praise. "Just be sure to keep up with the rest of your studies, and follow the doctor's orders to the letter!" he said sternly. "You'll be back with the other cadets in no time."
Jane smiled sadly. "Thank you, sir," she said, clumsily rising to her feet when it became obvious Wilkes wasn't going to say more. He gave her a salute, which she returned, then she hobbled out of the room with as much dignity as her crutches allowed.
Her almost-good mood lasted until she was halfway to her room, when her crutches caught on something and she tripped, falling to her knees with a cry. "My, my, aren't you a graceful one?" Jane looked up to see a grinning Peter Harrison, his brother Michael behind him. "Not so dangerous now, are you, savage?" he sneered. Jane bit back her angry retort as she fumbled for her crutches, trying to get to her feet. She waited for the Cadet Captain to further make her life hell, but he seemed satisfied with what he'd already done. He turned away, though his younger brother hesitated, his face almost… sympathetic? Then Michael went after his brother, though she thought she heard his voice say, "That was cruel even for you."
So the younger Harrison had a little compassion after all. But that did little to soothe Jane's rage and pain. Had she made the right decision?
A tear trickled down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away. Don't cry, she repeated her mantra. Never cry. As another tear joined the first, she began to wonder if she was really strong enough to do this after all.
* * *
When Neil saw Jane sitting alone in the library, he tried to ignore her. She doesn't want to see me! he reminded himself. But he'd been avoiding her for nearly a week now, and it was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Damn. I've fallen pretty hard for her…
Jane was sitting at one of the computer tables off to the side, her crutches leaning against the edge. She was glaring at the projected monitor of one of the computers. A series of trigonometric equations were traced in the air before her in brilliant orange, and her frustrated expression was clearly visible in the illumination.
"Problem?" Neil asked, slipping into the seat beside her. She scowled; whether at the problem or him, he was uncertain. He suspected the latter.
"No," she said shortly. Her tone was reminiscent of their first meeting. So we're back to square one…
"Oh… then are you just inventing whole new ways to handle those formulas? I'd say you were a genius… if any of those actually worked."
Jane's only answer was a growl. Encouraged, Neil leaned forward and began to tap the equations. "If you do this… then this… and I don't know how you got that but it's way off; try doing this… Everything works in the end." He grinned at her cockily, then wondered if he'd overstepped his bounds. She's right, I am a showoff!
But her face was grudgingly respectful. "How did you do that?" she demanded.
He hesitated. "It's hard to explain. But I could tutor you, if you want," he added daringly.
Her serious dark eyes met his. "Do you really know this shit?" she asked.
"You're talking to someone whose mother was a mathematical genius. In fact, numbers were all she knew. She tried to explain the facts of life to me in binary. Took me awhile to figure out what she meant by 'putting the ones in the zeroes,' but once I did, I never looked at numbers the same way again."
To his surprise, she actually laughed. "That's not how you plan to tutor me, is it?" There was a hint of suspicion beneath her humor.
"I promise to keep math a dry, boring subject," Neil vowed solemnly.
"And what's in it for you?" Suddenly, all humor was gone, and her gaze was piercing. Time to tread cautiously.
"A chance to make it up to you. It's my fault you're hurt. Let me help you, for peace of mind." There was a plaintive note in his voice.
Jane was silent for a moment. "If it weren't for you, I would be dead," she said finally. "You saved my life down there. You don't owe me anything."
Neil didn't deserve that. "If you hadn't been angry with me – " he began.
"Those catwalks are rusted through in some places; anyone could have fallen at any time. I was lucky to have been with someone who was quick-thinking enough to help me." Jane sounded pained to admit it.
Neil didn't know how to answer. "Just let me help you," he said finally. "As your… friend."
Jane looked startled, and Neil cursed himself for pushing her too far. Stupid, stupid! I shouldn't push her… She's the kind who'll run away… or fight… "Friend," Jane repeated. Neil cringed, waiting for her anger, but it never came. "All right," she said. "I don't have anything better to do anyway," she added bitterly.
Well, Neil thought, it's a start.
To Be Continued…