WARNING: Chapter contains a non-con situation (not done by or to Christian/Ana).

Chapter 6: War

It falls on Christian to gather their belongings and loot the bodies. Although he has the sense to not be cold about it with Ana in his thoughts.

When he's got almost everything, he grabs Ana's coat off of the dining room chair. A small plastic baggie tumbles out of its pocket, Christian looks at it for a moment. His first instinct says it's a nefarious drug, but as he fully register's its color and shape he finds it unmistakable. Arsenic. Why does she have arsenic?

Rather than be suspected of snooping, he stuffs the plastic back into the coat and moves on.

She's abnormally quiet for the daily trip, but Christian gives her room. Just because he's used to death, doesn't mean this isn't affecting her tremendously. He wonders if this is the first time that she's seen someone killed, but knows better than to ask. Perhaps he's corrupting her, perhaps she is more innocent than she lets on.

His mind moves to the arsenic, innocent people don't carry around lethal poison. But he can think of one other reason to carry arsenic, it's a swift suicide option when stuck in a bleak situation. Christian's blood runs cold, maybe he shouldn't have given it back. Was she thinking of suicide or was it for protection? The fact that she keeps it in her coat also bothers him. A simple puncture could cost her her life. It was reckless. He decided then, he'd take it back when she went to sleep tonight. She would not die on his watch.

It's only when they're camping again that he tries to broach making conversation. He can't stand the silent treatment, but maybe it's not intentional.

"We have more to trade in Duluth now. If you need anything, the guns we collected will fetch a good price."

"They're not mine." Ana is curt. She would take no part in the murders.

So, she is still upset. Christian shifts uncomfortably, "I know, but please let me know if you need anything. It's a long trip back." He wonders if she meant that the guns are his to take or if she was implying they weren't his at all. Neither is a good reaction.

As much as Ana wants to stay angry, his concern for her is mollifying. She follows up gently with a "Thank you."

Christian notices Ana doesn't set up her blankets next to him tonight. He wants to complain, but thinks better of it. He doesn't like the emptiness; it makes him think of old times… old times that weren't good.

November 28th, 2038

Christian's squad is the third pick-up truck to barrel into the fenced-off heart of Rochester. The snow was heavy, but no longer falling. The slippery streets were a hazard to the vehicles, but not enough to deter the Abolitionists' plans.

Elliot had managed to assemble 200 armed men for the coup to run smoothly that morning. With 30 functional vehicles, some of which were armored, and combat equipment, there was no doubt who the victors would be.

In response to the Abolitionists' sign of force, the guards present in Rochester did not act kindly. The first men to draw their guns at the invaders were swiftly executed. Christian hears the gunshots, but does not turn to look — his unit had other responsibilities: to clear the four-story building that acted as the communications tower for the settlement.

With Christian in the lead, his unit storms the large apartment — carefully clearing each room. Everyone who isn't armed is spared, but any sign of resistance is met with a bullet to the head. Christian's unit doesn't run into resistance until they reach the main control room. A firefight ensues quickly, two security guards are dead as a result and one of Christian's men is injured and swiftly removed from the building to receive medical attention. The civilians are ushered out into the street.

Exiting the cleared building, Christian can now see the coup in full swing. The apartment complex across the street has fire blowing out of the second floor. More gunshots can be heard from the street over. Other civilians are kneeling on the asphalt, being watched over by those in charge of crowd control. A woman screaming is what pierces through the chaos, Christian can hear it down the street in a tenement hall. He hesitates, knowing unit two is in charge of the building and reported nothing over the radio. He waves his unit to follow him with Taylor at his side. The blood-curdling cries for help make it easy to find the right room.

Turning around the corner, the scene before Christian takes a minute to register. Jack from his platoon is holding down a woman on the floor, she's whaling with her face against the broken tiled floor. Blood is dripping from her matted hair. Jack's pants and briefs are around his ankles and he's laying over her. Three more platoon members are already at the scene, laughing in amusement, one even beginning to unbuckle his pants.

Christian has to compose himself, holding back the bile in his throat. His disgust turns to rage in a heartbeat, "What the fuck are you doing Jack?" He charges forward grabbing the rapist by collar and dragging him off the woman's limp body. Fortunately, Taylor and his squad are there to back him up. The other witnesses now have the audacity to look ashamed.

After recovering from the sudden diversion, Jack pulls up his pants, face red with anger. He doesn't appreciate being embarrassed in front of his friends, "Get the fuck off of me Christian." his temper gets the better of him and he throws a punch without a second thought.

Christian moves out of the way effortlessly. Jack was clearly not in control of himself, but Christian was. He grabs Jack by the collar again, this time punching him square in the nose over and over until he can hear the satisfying crunch. Jack falls to the floor, stunned and clutching his face in pain.

The other men have the sense to leave the scene.

Christian is still seething, but reins himself in, "You're done. Get out."

Jack scrambles to his feet, eyes full of vehemence, "Fuck you Christian, Finnick is my boss." He manages to stumble through the door frame and off to the exit.

Christian looks at the sobbing woman still prone on the floor, a pool of blood forming underneath the apex of her thighs. He kneels beside her and radios in, "This is Sergeant Grey, Unit 2. We have a civilian who needs medical attention, we're in the second blue building on the right. The tenement hall. Over."

"Ma'am?" Christian pulls the woman's skirt back down to cover her naked bottom.

The woman doesn't reply, she's breathing but not moving out of her position.

A voice echoes through Christian's radio, "Roger that Sergeant. Civilian wounds are currently not a priority. Return to the main objective. Over."

Christian clenches his jaw, "We got a rape victim, Sergeant Jack Hyde is harming civilians. Over." He wants to stay and help, but as a sergeant he cannot cede control unless he is physically incapable of doing so.

Christian looks to his comrade, "Taylor, can you look after her? I need to move out to building four."

Taylor nods.

Comms comes back over the radio, "Roger that. Return to the main objective. Over."

Taylor notices that Christian is visibly annoyed, but calmly assents, "Affirmative, squad three returning to main objective. Over."

Christian exits the building with the rest of his squad.

After the coup of Rochester, Christian learns that help never arrived. Taylor gave the woman water and his first aid kit which he was later reprimanded for by the platoon's Captain. However, the coup was successful. The Phoenix Abolitionists now oversee a major trading post in New York and manage to recruit 87 men in the area.

Christian's plea with Captain Finnick to have Jack Hyde removed falls on deaf ears.

"Believe me, I find Sergeant Hyde's actions to be just as distasteful as you do. However, in times of war, we don't have the luxury of being selective Sergeant Grey. Hyde stays."

"With all due respect Captain, you clearly do not find it distasteful if nothing is being done. Let me write to Elliot and get this straightened out."

Finnick represses a sigh, "By all means, but I'm telling you now, this is not the first incident I've brought to the Colonel." Finnick refers to Elliot as Colonel, but Christian finds it unnatural to call his friend such things.

Christian addresses the statement, "What do you mean?"

"Sergeant, we've had over 15 reports of rape since Missouri and not a single case has resulted in a reprimand beyond a strongly worded letter. And those are from soldiers who bothered reporting it."

This is news to Christian. He's pleased that many of his comrades reported the issue, but that thought isn't comforting for long. 15 reports means practically every settlement they've overtaken resulted in rape.

"And how many times has Sergeant Hyde been reported?"

"I am not at liberty to say, but rest assured, we'll write up a warning."

Finnick's response leads Christian to conclude this isn't the first time he's been caught raping a poor woman, "How is that assuring if this has been done before?"

"Sergeant. Return to your station. If you want to send a letter to the Colonel, please deliver it to Comms. I will hear nothing more on this unless it's the Colonel himself. Dismissed."

Christian bites his tongue, "Captain." He salutes and exits promptly.

It takes Christian hours to fall asleep after remembering the ordeal. After sneaking next to Ana he manages to fall into a restless slumber. He knows better than to hold her tonight. She's disgusted by me.

After their last full day of hiking, they make it three hours out of town. Under a Lean-To, Christian and Ana lay side-by-side, their thoughts preoccupied with the knowledge that they will reach Duluth tomorrow.

It's chilly and the nearby fire barely offers comfort. Somehow, Christian finds himself not wanting the night to end. He didn't want to imagine having to endure day after day without Ana's laugh, her unruly locks, and wild eyes. A day without her comfort. His addiction to her company had snuck up on him, despite all caution, she had stolen a place inside of him. Worst of all, he liked her there. Even if he could manage to forget her, he wouldn't want to.

Ana found herself torn between loyalty to those who raised her in Rushmere and this unprecedented connection she felt to Christian. Ana knew more than she ever expected to know about Christian, yet the one thing she came here for was out of reach. She would need to finally broach the subject with Christian. Both lay there, avoiding eye contact, yet hearing the other's steady breathing.

"I don't want to leave you." Christian finally cuts through the silence. Confessing what he didn't want to be true.

Ana locks her fingers around his, comforting him. She wishes she could say she was surprised, but she isn't. His every touch, look, and word was laced with want. If she was being honest with herself, she would say she didn't want it to stop. However, she simply states, "We both have our responsibilities."

Christian turns his head to look at Ana, his eyes trace over her furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in consternation. He knows she is struggling with this too, but is too stubborn to admit it. He adjusts himself to be able to cup her face. Ana automatically leans into his touch, closing her eyes.

He brings her face to him, planting a firm kiss there. She smiles against his lips, but he notices it doesn't reach her eyes. He wants to fix that. He presses himself closer to her, eager to feel her warmth against him and to ease her doubts. His palm moves from her face to her hair, brushing his fingers through her strands. He chews on her words, then says, "I don't have any responsibilities."

Christian traces his thumb across Ana's frown. He kisses it away, then moves his lips across her neck. His hands wander underneath her jacket, he stops his kissing and tugs at it, looking at Ana for both help and permission.

Her eyes glaze over in thought, but she complies. She can feel the urgency in his touch as he removes her jacket and leans over her to continue his kissing. His hands slide beneath her shirt and palm her stomach then breasts.

Soon they remove each other's shirts, entranced by the other's presence. Christian feels the open air on his bare back now, but Ana's body provides the heat he craves. It's not enough for him. To rectify the situation, he begins taking off more clothes. Ana is in awe when she watches him, for the first time, unbuttoning her pants.

Christian feels her stop being responsive to his kisses once her legs are exposed to the cold, "Are you okay?"

Ana pulls him back down on her in response, "Stay close." She wraps her arms around his neck, "It's cold out."

Christian happily continues, focusing on kissing her lips instead. Once in a while he stops to open his eyes and gaze at her in wonder. He can still barely believe she tolerates him being this close, maybe even enjoys it. As time passes, he finds his will to stop slowly diminishing. He wants her to come with him to Canada, but knows she is determined to do right by her people.

But he wants all of her. Mine. With that thought, an inexplicable need to claim her takes over. He knows the thought is ludicrous, that a man has a stake in a woman once he beds her, but it was more than that to him. The deepest intimacy shared between each other would mean she had him too, in more ways than one. Before he has time to think about it further, he has her panties down past her knees and is unbuttoning himself.

She can see where this is going, Ana stares at his face stuck in concentration as he shoves down his boxers. She wonders if she should stop him like she promised. As if reading her mind, Christian looks up at her, balancing on his forearm and poised to take her in the next moment. He silently begs. Please don't stop me. His eyes trace over her once more, her questioning eyes, nipples stiff from the night air, and the soft folds of her womanhood. He waits for a beat to give her the chance to break away from him, but she doesn't.

He possesses her in one swift movement, groaning in pleasure. Adjusting to the heat and moisture, he begins slowly thrusting through her sharp gasps. Ana arches her head back as she feels the initial pain. She expected as much for her first time, but doesn't stop him. She can feel his need in how tightly he grips her, in how erect his manhood is.

Ana finds to her relief that the pain eventually gives way to carnal pleasure as Christian repeatedly claims her, whispering in her ear all the things he wanted to say. "I love you." Clutching her, he can't stop himself from taking her, "Stay with me. Don't leave."

Between the pain and pleasure, Ana wraps her legs around his waist, reciprocating his want. All she can manage is a chant, "Christian. Christian. Christian."

Her lips uttering his name over and over and his flesh against hers drives him to thrust harder and faster. Ana's quiet moans fail to drown out the sound of their lovemaking, the sound of skin slapping on skin and the wetness of their union. The sweet symphony of sex in Christian's ears and the feeling of final completeness brings him to his ultimate pleasure. He finishes inside her with a few final thrusts and when he does, he doesn't want to move. Ana feels his heavy breathing on her neck, their carnal activity has him spent. They fall asleep in each other's embrace.

The next morning, they wake up, still tangled in each other's limbs.

Silently, Christian pulls up his boxers and pants. His movement wakes Ana up. In a daze, she moves into a sitting position. She looks down at their sheets in embarrassment, her blood has stained it. There is a beat of silence for her lost virginity.

Christian's face pales at the realization, he looks to Ana, "Was that…" he begins, but changes course, "You never told me." Christian somehow thought, with her forwardness and the oral sex that she had done this before.

"Would it have changed last night?" Ana challenges.

How could someone so stunning… how could a siren like Anastasia not have attracted hordes of other sailors? Christian is shocked, but as the idea fully registers, he finds himself full of pride. She has only accepted him.

Ana's thoughts are elsewhere. She wonders if she should wash herself, not wanting problems down the line. She grabs the water in her bag and moves behind the tent for a semblance of privacy to rinse herself off.

Despite her attempt at privacy, Christian follows her, watching her wash the blood from the night before. Although he is high from the thought of being her only sex partner, his guilt is immense. He should've been a more attentive lover — noticed her pain. He isn't familiar with how he can help, but asks regardless, "Are you still hurting?" He hates to think that while he was having one of the best nights of his life, Ana was suffering in silence.

Ana is annoyed at Christian looking at her in this state, "I'm fine." She quickly moves to put her panties back on, then the rest of her articles of clothing. Christian follows suit. When they're both dressed, they sit next to each other to warm up next to the fire. Christian holds her hand. He can feel her slipping away.

"Ana, please." He begs, bringing her hand to his lips he kisses it.

She knows what he's asking for, his whispers during last night. He wants her to come with him. Her silence is nagging at him, filling him with doubt. Maybe she does simply tolerate him, maybe… feelings were unreciprocated.

Ana looks away. What will happen if I find out the truth? How can I follow through with hurting you? Her words tumble out, "Christian, how long were you an Abolitionist?"

Christian drops her hand, Ana can see he closes off immediately, "Who told you that?"

"How long?" Ana repeats.

Is this what her reservations are about? How did she know? Christian's thoughts are scrambled now, new waves of possibilities come forward. Was it when the trip started? With hesitation, he answers, "Four years, but that was years ago Ana. I'm not a member anymore. You didn't answer me, who told you?" Her answer was important, depending on the source, she could've heard other undesirable stories as well.

"Paul." Ana answers, she looks back at Christian, waiting for a reaction.

Paul… a Paul… Christian's mind filters through all of the faces he encountered as a P.A. He doesn't quite remember.

"Did you have any duties in Vermont?" Ana continues her line of questioning.

Christian freezes. He remembers Paul now, the weasel who betrayed his friends, "Yes."

"Tell me what you did."

He knows that this information could scare her away forever. Christian wants to argue, but Ana's disembodied voice frightens him. It tells him he can't escape this.

Christian avoids the main topic, "We had a lot of duties Ana. Mainly acquiring resources to support our forts nearby. We swept across practically the entire state, stealing, or scavenging what we could. Sometimes we had to take control of towns or even destroy them if it was especially rebellious." Christian tries his best to brush over the ugly implications this has, but he knows that Ana sees right through his facade.

"What did you do to the people you stole from?"

"We recruited a lot of them before resorting to stealing, but it was a nasty business if they didn't comply. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of Ana."

"So, you killed them."

"I thought we've been over this argument Ana… I don't do it for pleasure, I'm done."

"Do you remember a group of medics that were supposed to deliver to Burlington?"

Christian is annoyed by her persistence, "What does it matter?" He sees Ana's serious expression and releases his breath. Yes, he remembers. Paul in Burlington.

"Yes, Paul told us their route. We ambushed them."

Ana lets the air fill with silence. Willing Christian to continue.

"We were going to let them go, but a younger kid in the bunch pulled a gun on one of our officers and wounded him." Christian lets the memories flood him. The fierce teenager with the glock, too young and stupid, thought he could save the world against an armed unit of twelve. "It was too dangerous; my Captain didn't let it slide. We executed all of them." Their faces, like every other human Christian killed, would always be there.

Although her hope has been waning over the course of seven years, losing the last shred still brings her immense pain. Her father, once her only connection to the world, was torn from it prematurely. To serve as fodder for a militia machine, his life was taken at the whim of learned sociopaths of people, people like Christian.

Her pain is evident on her face. Christian is confused, not realizing the shift in Ana's mind. "Did you know them?" he asks.

Ana ignores his question. She found it unfair that Christian could do such a terrible thing and live on when the thought of her taking one life, his life, was unbearable… impossible even. Could she face Rushmere again if she let him go without justice? Who did Christian kill that she knew? Did it matter anymore? She would not go with him. That was out of the question.

"Ana, I regret every single one of them."

"Please, stop lying."

"I'm not. Until I met you, I tried not to think about it. But seeing you, keeping your innocence in the face of this world. I didn't think it was possible."

She finds it laughable that he thinks she's innocent and moves to dispatch that thought altogether, "I came here to kill you."

Christian stops, measuring the truth of that statement in Ana's eyes. Mad woman. Has she killed before? He thinks back to the arsenic he found in her bag, was this her plan all along? He makes no move to protect himself, he's not sure if he could. She has all of him and she can do what she wants with it.

Ana laughs pitifully, "Not so innocent now, am I?"

"Well, are you going to do it?" Christian stands by his statement. He found it deplorable to think Ana was corrupt. If she did kill him, he deserved it. He was positive of that fact.

She doesn't expect this reaction, soured by his disbelief in her. "Will you stop me?"

"No."

She was hoping she could at least have that peace of mind, that she couldn't do it because he would stop her. She knows that would be a poor excuse, nonetheless. Numb, she stands up to grab her backpack. She doesn't know what she'll do once she's done with Duluth, but she is not going back to Rushmere. She's not going to Canada.

"Who was it, Ana?" Christian trails after her before she begins walking again.

"My father." She mutters, just as much to herself as to Christian.