(A/N): Welcome back to Summer Declassified! Not much to say about this chapter, other than how super proud I am of the title I came up with for this installment! Oh, and there's some talking about Summer and what to do with her this chapter, since, y'know, last time kinda ended...not great for everyone's favorite RWBY mom. (Unless your favorite is Kali, in which case, don't worry, she's fine. You don't have to worry, you filthy degenerate.)
Anyways, enjoy!
"I knew she was lying about something."
Faulke had to suppress the urge to groan as his eyes tracked Weaver pacing the carpet of his office, as he sat behind his desk with his hands folded to create a perfect rest for the ridge of his nose. Looking slightly to the left, he could see Dennis Cole draining the last few drops from his flask, while on his right Loveday was leaning against the wall, pretending to be more interested in the Director's collection of books than he was in the current situation. And in the back corner Faulke noticed Carter standing still and trying not to be seen, his arms folded across his chest and the brim of his hat pulled down over his face.
"I knew from the start that Summer Rose wasn't what she said she was," repeated Weaver as she took frustrated steps. "Wasn't who she said she was. All this time, we've been fighting aliens...and it turns out we've had one right under our nose the whole time. I knew something like this would happen."
Loveday snapped the book in his hand closed and glanced up. "Yes, you've said that four times now. What do you want, love, a bloody medal?"
If looks could kill, the glare Weaver shot at the British World War II veteran would have dropped him on the spot. "I don't need that kind of validation - "
"Could've fooled me."
" - but if the people in this room had listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be in this situation." Weaver said nothing in response to Loveday's second comment, but she didn't need to. The storm in her eyes already did that.
"So many reports will have to be rewritten…" groused Cole. "So many records need to be stricken out...she's been on so many ops, it'll take a triple-shift just to clear the AARs out…"
"Okay, then here's a thought," said Loveday, putting his hands up. "What if - and if I can put this out there without getting my head bitten off that'd be lovely - what if we, I dunno, don't treat her like she's a war criminal? How about we don't strike her name from the records, or excommunicate her, or whatever it is you Americans do? Why not just keep her on as an agent and act like nothing happened?"
"Because she's been lying to us through her teeth this whole time, Loveday," growled Weaver. "And you heard her admit it, same as all of us. She's an alien. And I don't know if you've looked up lately, but we're currently fighting aliens. I don't see anyone advocating for letting that Infiltrator out of his cell to come in the field with us, because we can't trust it. And now that she's admitted the truth herself, we can't trust her either."
"So we're just assuming that there are no friendly aliens out there in the great big beyond?"
"There's too much at stake for us to make those kinds of assumptions. She's not from Earth, therefore she is the enemy."
Loveday scoffed. "The enemy? Do you even hear yourself right now? I mean, I know that you American women get real insecure over the smallest things, but Christ. This is excessive."
Weaver's eyes narrowed so much she was practically squinting, her hands balling into shaking fists. "Say that again, Loveday. Louder. I fucking dare you."
The old English man seemed to take the threat as a challenge. "Oh, I'll shout it from the rooftops if you want. Hell, I'll climb right up Big Ben and declare to the whole world, 'Angela Weaver is a petty, vindictive, jealous bi - !'"
"Enough. Both of you."
Both the recon agents turned with scowls to Faulke, who went ahead and glared right back. Loveday sighed and turned his attention back to the books, while Weaver snarled and went back to pacing.
"Regardless of her origin, Summer Rose has indeed proven to be a valuable asset, both on and off the field," explained Faulke. "However, in light of recent events, that value has to be balanced against the risk of her kind, wherever they might be, turning against us should anything befall her. We also must investigate the circumstances of her arrival, as well as the technological capability of her people and whether we need to fear retaliation. Finally, the fact that she's escaped scrutiny for this long presents evidence of a dire security breach, one that must be investigated and plugged up immediately before we have another infiltration case on our hands."
He took a long, patient draft of his barely lit cigarette, savoring the last few ounces of smoke before blowing it out. "Until all of these issues are resolved, Summer Rose is to be stripped of her Agent status and rank, and detained in the brig under armed guard at all times. Anyone caught attempting to take matters into their own hands regarding her will face dishonorable discharge at best and a summary execution at worst."
The Director looked at the squad leaders gathered in the room. "Is. That. Clear?"
Weaver growled and groused, but eventually folded her arms and faced away, which was her way of showing lukewarm approval. Loveday nodded with a shrug, while Cole nodded as well after jotting down Faulke's words. Satisfied, the Director looked to Carter, who had been completely silent for the entire meeting.
"Agent Carter?" Faulke asked. "Do you have any objections?"
The gray-hatted man opened his mouth as if to say something, then shook his head.
"No sir," he growled.
"Then you're all dismissed," said Faulke as he leaned back in his chair. "Go. Get some sleep. We need you all ready for when the Outsiders decide to make their next move. Vigilo Confido."
As the officers filed out of his office, Faulke noticed that Carter was the last to leave. He didn't say anything, didn't move, just stood there like a statue for a good five minutes before the secretary finally ushered him out.
The Director of XCOM pulled off his glasses and rubbed his tired face. One question kept echoing in his mind, one thought bounced around in his head and refused to leave until it had an answer.
Who is Summer Rose?
"Wake up, Rose. You've got a visitor."
The harsh lighting of the brig and the echoing clang of the steel door assaulted her senses and interrupted her fitful sleep, making Summer blink blearily and squint to try to refocus the world around her. Not that there was much worth seeing, she quickly realized, as when her mind fully rose from slumber, she could tell that nothing in her immediate surroundings had changed. Her arms were still locked to the back of a steel chair with a pair of handcuffs, the ropes around her ankles still forced her bare feet to be in constant contact with the rough concrete, and the cold air of her cell still sent ripples of goosebumps up and down her bare arms that extended all the way past her tank top. Given that she'd shown she could use just about anything as a weapon, even basic amenities such as shoes, belts, and clothes with pockets were denied to her - which Summer didn't find nearly as insulting as the fact that she hadn't even been given so much as a blanket.
Then again, she could be in worse positions. She could be splattered across the back wall, or dropped into the ocean with a weight tied around her neck. So she wasn't about to complain about her lack of comfortable accomodations anytime soon.
Not out loud, at least.
The door to Summer's cell opened, revealing a much needed friendly face to pull her mind out of the dark thoughts. Penelope Cohen walked in balancing a plate of food on a stack of books, and she nearly dropped both when she saw the state of her friend.
"Oh my God. Summer?"
The silver-eyed woman smiled as best she could. "Hey Penny. What's a good girl like you doing to come visit a career criminal like me?"
Penny laughed awkwardly, stepping forward and setting her things on the table between them before her arms gave out completely. The smile on Summer's face slipped away when she saw that her friend was sporting a new accessory - a black eye, swollen and pulsating behind a pair of slightly bent glasses.
"I brought you something from the mess hall," said the demure young woman, seemingly unconcerned with the state of her left eye. "I know it's not much - or very good - but even if the Bureau was going to let you starve to death, I certainly won't."
"You shouldn't be doing this for me," protested Summer, hanging her head. Gods, how she wished her arms were free right now so she could touch her friend's face. "I...it was wrong of me to involve you in the first place...I thought I was helping build bridges, but all I did was put you in Faulke's crosshairs. He must have gone after anyone who already knew..."
"I went to him, actually." answered Penny, pulling a spoon from her pocket. "When I saw you get arrested, I went to his office and told him everything. He had suspected we were sharing some sort of secret, but wasn't sure what. With your...alien-ness revealed, he'd already put two and two together."
"You're not in trouble, are you?"
"Oh, no more than I usually am," said Penny with an attempt at a wink. Unfortunately, it was delivered with the bruised eye, so the joke fell a bit flat. Summer laughed anyways, grateful for the chance to do so.
"You know the only reason I said that was to try to get the Infiltrator to -"
"I know," said Penny as she smiled warmly. "No, I'm not in trouble. Well...not for that, at least. Now open up and let me feed you. You must be hungry."
Summer couldn't argue with that, as she felt her stomach grumble. But she was also pretty sure it was impossible to be hungry specifically for the slop that came from the mess hall. Sure, it was technically edible in the loosest sense of the term, but it was also bland and textureless, like eating an entire plate of slush. Summer was pretty sure that if she was trapped on a desert island with nothing but a lifetime supply of Chef's Surprise, she would have no trouble finding literally anything else to eat. Like her own leg.
Still, food was food, and anything beat starving to death. So reluctantly, Summer opened her mouth and let Penny start shoveling the stuff into her mouth. It tasted exactly as horrible as she remembered.
"I had to give Faulke and the doctors the notes with the 'conversations' we had," said Penny as she fed her friend. "They wanted to know more about Remnant, but, well...they believed you would be more honest with me than you were with them."
Summer choked down the spoonful of gods-only-knew-what, and sighed. "Oh Penny...they didn't interrogate you because of me, did they? Did they give you that black eye?" She furrowed her brow. "I swear if they did anything to hurt you…"
Penny's eyes widened behind her glasses. Well, one of them did, at least. "N-no!" she quickly answered. "No, nothing like that! It was just some questions, is all. Mostly about what your world was like - Dresner was interested in the atmospheric composition, Weir wanted to know more about the technology, and Faulke sought info on the geopolitical landscape. All of those discussions were quite civil."
The silver-eyed Huntress breathed a sigh of relief.
"No, this is from the fight in the mess hall."
Summer gasped as she stared incredulously. "You were in a fight?"
"I know, I find it hard to believe myself!" Penny smiled, then frowned. "I...overheard one of the agents saying terrible things about you. How...before Faulke lines you up in front of a firing squad, he should ...tie you down and strip you naked and give the boys a chance to, erm…'have their way with you.' His words, not mine. Well, actually...his words were worse. I got...so angry. Without even thinking I ran up and slugged him right across the mouth, and then...well, next thing I remember is being pulled away with a stinging welt on my face while someone dragged him to the medical bay."
"Penny…" Summer shook her head sadly.
"It wasn't that bad!" she supplied quickly. "I just...broke his nose a little bit. And knocked out a few teeth. And fractured his solar plexus. He's expected to make a full recovery...but I don't think he'll be saying anything bad about you anytime soon. Especially not after everyone saw him get 'beat up by a girl' and aren't about to let him forget anytime soon…you know how men can be sometimes."
Penny paused to offer Summer another mouthful of food, before continuing. "At least that means the boxing lessons Webb is giving me are setting in. He complimented my footwork and form...before putting me on kitchen duty for two weeks."
Summer made a choked "guh" sound after she swallowed. "Well, that's not so bad then. Who knows? Maybe you'll find a way to make the slop taste better." She chuckled, then sighed. "Still...while I appreciate you standing up for me, I'd rather you do so in ways that don't get you in trouble. You didn't have to fight him."
"I know," said Penny quietly. "It just...you're my friend, Summer. I can't stand it when people say such awful things about you. I care about you."
"I care about you, too," answered Summer. "Which is why I don't want you getting into hot water for my sake. Promise me you'll stay safe out there while I'm in here, okay? That would mean more to me than anything else."
Penny frowned, gave a tight nod, then blinked as she fed her friend a few more spoonfuls in silence. After shaking her head to signal she'd stomached enough, Summer hummed thoughtfully.
"...what kind of things are they saying about me, exactly?"
"Not as bad as what that jerk said," answered Penny as she set the half-empty plate off to the side, "but not great, either. Most of them are just worried you're here to scope out the Bureau so that when we deal with the Outsiders, your people can swoop in and take Earth while we're weakened. You know how rumors can get down here - a little bit of truth gets distorted and stretched to the point where it's barely recognizable, to the point that one fact can turn into a whole fictional story. And lots of people are having trouble accepting that you're completely human, so they've started theorizing and giving you more...alien features. Like you're hiding tentacles between your legs or something."
Well that was an amusing image at least.
"I think...there are people who are on your side, though," continued Penny. "Like Weir. He hasn't said anything publicly, but he's having Chulski and her people start looking for signals that might come from space. Like we did before the Outsiders attacked in full. I think he's trying to find that Shipmaster that the Infiltrator talked about, so he at least trusts the intel you got." She smiled. "He actually encouraged me to come visit you. Said you needed a friendly face."
"He's not wrong about that." Summer smiled for a moment, then looked painfully hopeful. "And Carter?"
Penny paused, biting her upper lip. "He...doesn't say anything about you. He's not saying anything bad, but he's not standing up for you either, like I am. It's like...it's like he's pretending you never existed, and when people ask about his 'alien girlfriend' or if he's gonna replace his ASL, he just glares at them and tells them to get back to work. Even if they're on break. It's...really weird."
The silver-eyed huntress sighed. "I was afraid of this. I shouldn't have waited this long, should have told them earlier. Everyone trusted me...Carter trusted me...and I've let them all down. Now everyone hates me."
"I don't hate you," said Penny softly.
"Because I was honest with you," countered Summer. "I trusted you, and you accepted me for who I am. I should have shown that same sort of honesty to everyone else…"
Penny shook her head. "In my opinion, you were right to be suspicious at first. People are always slow to...accept what might be different from them. What doesn't fit into their views of what 'normal' means. The Infiltrator wasn't wrong about that."
The glasses-wearing brunette shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Speaking from personal experience...I've had a lot of friends burn bridges with me when they found out I wasn't attracted to men. Called me all sorts of nasty things, treated me differently, cast me out like I was some sort of leper. I was already always the odd one out, what with me always having my nose in a book and not liking the same things other kids my age did...but me finding girls pretty enough to fall in love with? That was the final nail in the coffin for a lot of people to just write me off as a 'freak' or some kind of demon. Including my parents."
Summer softened her gaze. "Oh, Penny…I'm sorry. This must be difficult for you to talk about..."
"It's not easy," agreed Penny, "but it's also not as hard as it used to be. The point is, sure, there are people who are going to hate you for something you can't change about yourself. But there are also going to be people who don't care, or accept that you're different from them without judgement. Find those people. Make them your friends. Show them that you're good, and kind, and loving. Do something no one else has done before. Show them that what makes you different isn't your only defining trait. And maybe...just maybe...what makes you hated by some will make you adored by others. Because you were also right in what you said to the Infiltrator. People can be cruel and dark...but they can also be good, and warm, no matter where they come from. You're living proof of that."
The silver-eyed rose stared up at Penny, who folded her hands across the unopened book in front of her. She realized now, in that moment, just how much the young comms operator meant to her. If her heart hadn't been claimed already, she would have swept Penny off her feet and carried her off to anywhere she wanted weeks ago. Yet even after being turned down romantically, this woman was speaking Summer's praises, getting into fights with anyone who spoke ill of her, and coming to see her when she was at her lowest point. All for someone who wasn't even from this world, for someone who could offer nothing but friendship for her aching heart, because Penny was a good person. And if this world had people like her, who could accept Summer Rose for her true, authentic self...then maybe this captive rose might someday see the sun again after all.
And yet...
"Penny," said Summer softly with a warm smile. "I appreciate the intent behind your words. I really do. But I don't think it's fair to compare 'lying about being an alien to a government agency dedicated to fighting aliens' and 'wanting to kiss girls on the mouth.' One of those will get you judged a little harsher than the other."
"You're right," said Penny with a pout. "It is so hard to find a girlfriend these days."
The unexpected comment caused Summer to burst out laughing, which was joined by Penny as the women giggled until their stomachs hurt.
"Oh...oh gods…" panted Summer. "I...I needed that. Thank you, Penny. For...everything…"
"Hah, of course," breathed Penny, wiping a tear away from her non-bruised eye. "I promised I'd be there until the end, didn't I? So I'm gonna do just that."
The young operator eventually caught her breath, then checked her watch. With a sigh, she stood up, stepped around the table, and pulled her friend into a tight, firm hug. Summer did her best to lean into the embrace despite her restraints, wishing desperately her hands were free enough to return the affectionate gesture. But no amount of straining or arching her back would grant her that wish, so she settled for nuzzling against Penny's shoulder, rubbing her cheek against the soft sleeve.
"You're a good person, Summer," whispered Penny hoarsely, "You've always been one. In everyone's eyes, what you are might be different, but it doesn't change who you are. You're still the shining star that brings light and hope to everyone, the same wonderful you that I and so many others have fallen in love with. We wouldn't have gotten this far without you, and we won't get much farther if you stay locked in the dungeon. The Bureau has to see that eventually, and they will. I'm sure of it. You'll be out of here eventually. I promise."
Summer just about cried. "I know. And thank you...for having faith in me this whole time. Even now. You're...exactly the kind of friend worth fighting for. The kind of person I swore to protect. And if I ever leave this room...I'm going to go back to doing just that. For you. And everyone like you."
The silver-eyed warrior snuggled closer despite the pain her bonds caused. "Mmm...I've missed your hugs so much. Like...that's the thing I miss most about being stuck here."
Penny chuckled, stroking Summer's hair softly. "I'll give you all the hugs you want when you get out."
Summer said nothing, merely drinking in the warmth and affection, finding herself wanting more when Penny eventually pulled away.
"I have to go now," she said as she gathered up the dirty dishes and her books, "but I'll come visit tomorrow. And the next day. And every day after that until they finally let you out. I promise."
The alien Rose watched her lucky Penny leave and the door slam shut again with a longing, mournful expression.
"Looking forward to it," she mumbled, before letting her head sag as far forward as it could go, closing her eyes and waiting for slumber to come claim her again.
Sleep, like her beloved friend, couldn't return soon enough.
The mess hall wasn't just used for meals and treating food poisoning. When Leo Van Doorn wasn't concocting culinary war crimes in the kitchen twice a day, it served as one of the few places Agents in the Bureau could come to truly unwind. When men and women needed a break from anything related to guns, paperwork, and radios, they typically came to the undecorated concrete-walled cafeteria for cards, gossip, or drinks. There were also mandatory rest hours assigned to the personnel, but given how the Bureau operated on a twenty-four-hour schedule, those off-hours were often short, stressful, and almost never lined up between friends.
Fortunately for Nils, none of those restrictions applied much to him these days, so whenever he wasn't in physical therapy or sleeping in medical, he'd just literally roll his way down to the mess hall to see who was there. Most times, no one was. But today, he could see four people from Strike Three gathered around a table with a deck of cards and a crate full of old bottle caps, along with a large man with wild red hair and a petite, almost wispy woman with unkempt dark hair and a bright yellow dress shirt three sizes too big.
Looks like Dawson managed to rope Shen, Mucallin, and Crawford into his little game, thought Nils as he pulled the wheels on his chair. With a tightly controlled speed and only a small amount of fatigue in his biceps, he made his way over to the table and cleared his throat.
"Hey," he said casually, "Got room for one more?"
Dawson didn't bother looking up from hand as spoke. "Sure. Pull up a chair and I'll deal you in on the next round." When he finally did look to see who was approaching the dusty, dimly-lit table, he winced at his word choice. "Oh...sorry."
Nils looked annoyed for a moment, but shook his head as he rolled forward in between Shen and Knox, who shuffled to the sides to make room for him and his wheelchair. "It's fine. I'm getting used to slip-ups like that." He looked around. "No Carter today?"
"He's on a field op with a bunch of new recruits," said Knox. "A longer one, where they're tracking some UFO that sent off a ping somewhere near Long Beach. They'll be out for a few days, so it's just us regular rank-and-file boys for now. And Crawford, for some reason."
The woman at the table gave a chipper wave.
"Right," said Nils with a chuckle. "Guess he's been itching for some action, huh? Can't say I blame him. I'd get out there too, if I could still go on field ops."
Alfred gave a sad smile as he looked down at his played hand, a mishmash of cards with no clear pattern. "I know what you mean, lad. Those bloody Outsiders have done a lot of damage, they did. Sorry we cannae bring ya out with us...and I'm sorry we cannae do more for ya. Damn shame what happened to the lads on yer team...damn shame indeed."
Nils smiled sadly. The massive Scottish warrior with wild unkempt hair was so genuine and heartfelt, he could have easily passed as a giant teddy bear. And if he were capable of standing on his own two feet, Nils probably would have squeezed him like one.
"Thanks, Al," he said gratefully. "It...still hurts, but I think I'm finally starting to accept what happened. Besides, wherever they are now...at least they're not fighting this damn war anymore."
The Mucallin man's smile widened as he nodded. "Aye. Like to think they're in the same place as me ancestors, watching us fight for their glory. They'd be mighty proud of ya, I'd wager."
"Agreed. And it's good to see you adjusting," said Shen thoughtfully as he laid his cards facedown. "Has mobility been an issue for you? Weir and I have been trying to add ramps around the base where we can, but...there's only so much we can do with a structure like this. I'm folding this round."
"What's the matter, kid?" Knox asked in a shit-eating grin. "Scared?"
"No, just cautious," answered the Engineer with a twinkle in his eye. He turned to Nils.
"It was tricky at first, but I've found ways around," explained Nils, locking the brakes on his chair. "The service lifts, for example, have been immensely helpful in getting from one floor to another, since those are made to transport carts. And, you know, during those rare times when the flight deck is empty, I like to take this thing out for a spin just to keep my arms in shape…and not gonna lie, it feels kinda fun getting up to top speed and just...coasting."
Across from him, the woman with long black hair and gray eyes blinked twice. "That's you racing around up there? I thought it was the wailing banshees getting into the pushcarts again."
Adam groaned at the words of his fellow Recon agent. "You seriously believe in that stuff, Crawford?"
"You don't?" Crawford responded with a raised eyebrow.
"Course not," said Adam as he laid his cards down. "It's all make-believe. Stories you tell kids to keep 'em quiet and entertained for a few hours. Like ghosts, or fairies, or Santa Claus. Two pairs, four and three."
Knox growled. "Dammit, Goldstein."
"Hey, not my fault your highest is a nine."
"You know, people said the same thing about aliens," said Crawford as she rearranged her cards. "That they were just made up stories. And yet we're fighting aliens right now."
"Lass has got a point," added Alfred. "The gates are wide open, and who knows what else might be out there? Jackie's mum always said that legends are stories with a hint of truth to 'em, so maybe all those old tales aren't hogwash after all."
"Yeah, but just because aliens are real doesn't mean everything's real." Adam crossed his arms. "Like, sure, okay, fine, there are other species out there in the stars, we know that now. But that still doesn't prove that your...werewolves are real."
"Moon wolves, Adam," corrected Crawford, showing her cards. "And it also doesn't disprove their existence, either. Full house."
"Oh come on!"
"Son of a bitch!"
"Ah, ya wee blighter!"
Ignoring the protests of Adam, Knox, and Alfred, Dawson looked to Nils. "Speaking of aliens, did you hear the news? Turns out we know what garden our little rose came from...but it's not any garden here on Earth, if you know what I mean."
Shen and Alfred both went oddly quiet. Adam fumed. Crawford's smile lost a bit of its luster. Nils furrowed his brow, the wheels in his head turning. Then he blinked. "What, you mean...Summer? What about her? I saw her getting taken away by base sec. Did something happen?"
"Faulke had her put under arrest," clarified Crawford. "On the grounds of her being an alien."
The wheelchair bound Recon agent blanched. "You're shitting me."
"Swear to God, that's the truth," said Knox as he spit a wad of chewing tobacco into a disgusting-looking spittoon. "That Infiltrator figured it out and called her out on it when she and Carter tried to get answers about that box thing we got from Roswell. Didn't even try to deny it afterwards, either. So yeah. Turns out she's from another world. Explains a lot about how batshit crazy she is."
"She's been lying to us this whole time," grumbled Adam as he glared at his cards. "I should have known she was one of them. The signs were all there…"
Nils looked down, unsure of how to feel. When he looked up, Dawson had shown his hand with a sigh, revealing his three of a kind. Crawford seemed unaware of the glares of Adam and Knox shot her way as she pulled all the bottle caps toward herself, adding it to her ever growing pile. The rounds of poker weren't being played with real money, of course - the caps were just for show, a way to keep score in a meaningless way. That didn't stop some people from treating it like their house payment was on the line.
"New round," said Dawson as he passed out the newly shuffled deck. "Five card studs, fours are wild, sky's the limit. Start the bets."
"So what's gonna happen to her?"
The Support agent looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"
"What's gonna happen to Summer?" repeated Nils. "Has Faulke decided anything?"
"If he has, he hasn't told anyone," said Adam, balking at Crawford as she stacked her winnings into a tidy little castle. "Personally, I say we should just line her up in front of a firing squad and be done with it."
Even Knox seemed to wince. "Fucking Christ, Goldstein."
"What? You know it'd be the most efficient solution. We barely have enough food to keep the base fed, you think we can afford to keep another alien prisoner alive? One's bad enough as it is. Plus, it's just a matter of time before she figures her way out of her cell and comes to castrate us all in our sleep. You've seen her on the field, I wouldn't put it past her to do that."
"Your paranoia is a double-edged sword, Adam."
"It's kept me alive this long, Shen."
"It probably won't come to that," Dawson said to Nils. "The most likely outcome? Faulke'll might just keep her detained till the end of the war. Figure out what to do with her then, and think about how to approach this whole 'Remnant' situation once the Outsiders are dealt with."
Nils sighed, looking at the agents. "And you're all...okay with that?"
"We're soldiers, kid," growled Knox as he spat out another wad of black tar. "We follow orders, and Faulke is the one giving them. He wants Rose dead, she's dead. He wants her imprisoned, she's imprisoned. It's out of our hands. How we feel about it doesn't matter."
If Nils were capable of standing, he most certainly would have done so at this moment. Instead, he settled for throwing his cards on the table.
"Well you know what? It should."
Crawford tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"It should matter how we feel about it, because this isn't right. Summer's done nothing but shed blood, sweat, and tears for us, for all of us, and this is how we repay her? By sitting around and locking her up and treating her like she's on trial at Nuremberg?" He cast a glare at Adam in particular.
"She lied to us, Nils," said the paranoid Recon agent. "About amnesia, about her past, everything. Hell, she might even be lying about being an alien. How can we trust someone like that?"
"So she lied about where she came from," responded Nils. "Whatever. Point is, she's here now, and she wants to fight for us. To protect us. Why are we punishing her for that?"
"And how do you know that's not a lie, too?"
"Adam, lad, that's enough - "
"Because I'd be dead if she was lying, you myopic asswipe!"
The entire table fell silent at Nils's outburst, who put his hands on his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath.
"Look, none of you saw her fight at Groom Range, right? You weren't there when Faulke sent us out to activate the elerium nukes. I was. It was me, her, Carter, and…"
Nils gripped the armrest on his wheelchair tightly, fighting back the tears. Shen put a hand on his shoulder, which he responded to with a grateful nod.
"...we were in a bad spot," he continued once he got his grief under control. "Kinney went down hard, and she and Carter were pinned down by two full Outsider firing squads. I was pinned down by a bunch of grays, the countdown to the bomb drop was ticking, and we were completely trapped and outnumbered. So you know what Summer does?"
Strike Three looked at each other with questioning stares, then shook their heads. Of course they didn't know. They'd likely heard stories, but they were waiting for the truth straight from Nils's mouth.
"She hands her rifle to Carter and runs out of cover, with nothing protecting her but some torn-up little dress uniform. Then she grabs a big metal pole with one hand, snatches up a winch in the other, and jumps off the side of the damn platform. I thought she'd fallen to her death or yanked her arms out of her sockets...when all of a sudden I see her swing up and around the side, land behind the Sectoids suppressing me, and start beating the absolute shit out of them. Then once I was in the clear, she jumps down and starts doing the same to the Outsiders, knocking them down and breaking up their formation. Carter got Kinney back on his feet, I could stick my head out of my sniper perch without getting shot, and we cleared the rest of those alien bastards out quick enough for Big Sky to pull us out before the nuke went off. She saved all of us that night - without her, all four of us would have just been burnt corpses in a radioactive wasteland."
Nils took a deep breath, letting his words hang in the air, and sighed.
"And that was just the first time she saved my life. When the Infiltrator came, she figured out who that asshole was. I rushed after it like a dumb hotshot, and despite being shot in the gut, she was running to my rescue before I did something stupid. And, well...you know how that story ends."
He looked down mournfully at his useless legs, shook his head, then looked back up. "She's the reason I'm in a wheelchair right now, instead of the morgue. I owe her my life twice over. And I know you all have similar stories. Don't you?"
The people at the card table were silent, suddenly no longer interested in their game. Shen was the first to find his voice.
"I...would have been smashed across the pavement by that Muton if she hadn't been there," said the Engineer.
"We'd have been flanked by those Outsiders if she hadn't taken them out while we protected the AA Tower," said Knox.
"She was the glue that kept our nerves together when that Sectopod got dropped on us," remarked Dawson.
"Aye," said Alfred with a heavy sigh, "I'd have lost me wife if it wasn't for that silver-eyed lass. And that smile she had when I saw her again...I dunno what she and Summer talked about, but it lit a fire in my sweet Jackie, one I thought the world had snuffed out."
"And I wouldn't even be training for Agent duty if she hadn't advocated for me," finished Crawford. "Neither would Liz, or Daisy, or Penny. She inspired us all to take up arms, to fight alongside the boys for our world."
The boys all nodded in agreement, sharing other stories of their encounters with Summer. Then, all at once, the table slowly looked to Adam Goldstein...who let out a long, frustrated sigh.
"Okay, fine. I guess we can thank her for cutting up that Titan from the inside out," said the Recon agent with a scowl.
Nils nodded. "You see what I mean? If she was lying about her intentions, she wouldn't have done any of that. She'd either stand back and let it happen at best...or kill us herself at worst. Instead, she's constantly and consistently put her ass and her life on the line for us, despite the fact that this isn't her home. She's a stranger in a strange land, someone who's determined to do the right thing for people she's never had a connection with. If the roles were reversed, and you ended up on her world somehow...how many of you would do the same?"
He breathed, and finished his declaration by leaning forward as far as his paralysis would allow him. "We can't give up on Summer now...because she never gave up on us."
His words hung in the air for a good minute before Dawson chuckled.
"Pretty sure you played the verbal equivalent of a royal flush there, Nils," said the medic. "You're absolutely right - Summer's part of our squad, our own resident Wonder Woman, and she means a great deal to us. At least, she does to those of us with a heart."
He glanced at Adam, who seemed to shrivel up in his seat.
"But in this case, you're preaching to the choir. Knox is right - Faulke's got total say in what happens in the Bureau, and considering he's got Weaver and Carter whispering in his ear on this matter, I don't have a lot of hope for Summer's release. It's not us grunts you gotta convince...it's the big guy himself."
Nils frowned. "Yeah. You're right. But there must be a way to do it. It's just a matter of figuring out how."
Dawson's eyes twinkled as he slid Nils's discarded hand back towards him. "Well...why don't we do some brainstorming over a nice friendly round of cards? Let's see if you're as good of a player as you are a speaker…"
And so Nils picked up his cards, studied them, and talked long into the night with Strike Three about how to approach Faulke.
Completely unaware of the fact that the Director himself was hunched over the desk in his office, already listening to every word they were saying with a pensive stare.
"Summer Rose? Are you awake?"
The silver-eyed warrior squinted at the bright light that shone in her eyes. The usual guard that was stationed outside her door was standing over her, his face impassive.
"I am now," she groaned. "What is it this time? Is Dresner gonna stick more stuff in me? And if so, do I at least get to say where it goes?"
A fraction of a smile appeared on the guard's face before he forced it down. Then he walked around the back, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. A sound reached Summer's ears that she'd longed to hear for so long - the metallic clinking of her handcuffs being unlocked.
"Ooh…" she moaned as she brought her hands forward for the first time in days, rubbing the raw skin around her wrists and stretching her sore joints. "Much better." Then Summer cast a skeptical glance up at the guard. "So, I'm guessing either one of two things is happening right now. Either I'm being released, or I'm about to be taken out the back and riddled with bullets. Which one is it, if you're allowed to say?"
"You're welcome to come with me and find out," said a familiar voice from outside the open cell door. Silver eyes widened at the gentle face of Alan Weir stepping in with two hot cups of tea, setting one down in front of Summer while he sipped the other one. Despite the scalding heat of the beverage, she took it with both hands and gulped it down greedily, grateful for the taste of something other than lukewarm water.
"Of course, you're also welcome to simply head to the flight deck and ask Barnes to take you anywhere you want to go," said Weir with an amused smile, watching Summer chug the fresh tea like it was the elixir of life. "But I think Faulke would like to speak with you before you do so. When you're ready, I can take you to him."
Summer gasped once she'd finished draining the jasmine tea and nodded once the guard had finished untying her legs. "S-sure. Though...could I get some shoes first? And a belt? A blanket would be nice, too...oh, and some chocolate. You got any Tropicals left?"
Weir chuckled and pulled a ration bar out of his lab coat, sliding it across the table as he collected the empty teacup. "I set this one aside just for you, Miss Rose. And we can pick up those other amenities on the way."
Five minutes later, Summer was chomping down on the military chocolate with a soft blanket wrapped around her bare shoulders as she followed the Chief of Engineering back through the same winding hallways she had seen before. She realized that the maze-like structure of the brig's placement was intentional, as even with a solid plan and an acute sense of direction, escaping the facility from a place as deep as the holding cells would be a difficult task. They passed a lot of Agents on the way to Faulke's office - some of the people waved and smiled at her, while others scowled and turned away.
As Weir led her closer to the door to the Director's office, she could hear voices on the other side. Angry voices. One man, and one woman. Summer knew who they both belonged to, and the realization made her heart sink.
"...lost Morton, Solomon, and Jenkins? Goddammit, Carter, how do you lose three people on one mission?"
"By getting flanked and overrun, that's how. Wherever those Outsiders disappeared to, they came back fully kitted out with those guns we found in the Command Ship in Roswell. And the Muton we saw was bigger and better armored than any we've seen in the field before. Not to mention the boys were tired from three days of chasing a UFO up north - damn thing led us all the way to Shasta-Trinity before it finally set down in the forest."
"Intel said it was just a scout with a minimal crew."
"That was the minimal crew. Once Morton bit the dust, Solomon panicked and ran out of cover right into a Tech Commander's damn turret. Then Jenkins tried to play the hero and distract the Muton long enough for the rest of us to pull out...but he lasted all of five seconds before that big bastard squashed him flat."
"Why didn't you do anything?"
"Because I was trying to make sure Wright and Murphy didn't shoot each other when those damn Sectoids pounced on them from out of the bushes and started clawing their faces off. I barely got those two out of there alive, and Murphy lost an eyeball in the struggle while Wright came away with a bad case of PTSD."
"This is unacceptable, Carter. We need you to do better."
"Well maybe if you hadn't been so eager to lock up my ASL…"
"Don't you DARE pin this on me!"
Weir chose that time to clear his throat, opening the office door without even knocking. "Excuse me...I hope I'm not interrupting tea time. She's here, Director."
Summer followed the good doctor into Faulke's office with her eyes glued to the floor, the blanket hugged close to her chest and half of the chocolate bar dangling between her lips. When she finally worked up the nerve to raise her head, she was greeted with the sight of Carter and Weaver standing in front of the Director's desk, all three of them looking exhausted and drained. Weaver's anger was at such a fever pitch she nearly had steam coming from her ears, the cigarette between Faulke's fingers clung to life with smoldering embers, and Carter's normally pristine suit was covered in tears and cuts from wounds that were already healed. Of the three, Summer's former squad leader looked the worst; his face was locked into a scowl, his hat was gone, and his power pack hung off his back from loose wires.
He must have been called straight from the flight deck to give a briefing on his latest op, thought Summer. Carter...I'm sorry I let you down like this.
"SCREEEEEEE!"
The silence that followed Summer's arrival was interrupted by the shrill screech of a Silacoid, as Silas launched itself from Carter's damaged pack at the silver-eyed woman. She tensed up and prepared for an attack, but the only thing the Silacoid had for her was love and affection. Summer giggled as the little mass of alien gel wormed its way under the blanket, slithering around her torso like a snake and vibrating excitedly as it trilled and purred. She responded to the hug as best she could, stroking the length of the Silacoid and nuzzling her cheek against its face.
"Well, at least someone's happy to see me," she said with a soft laugh, smiling as she saw Silas sniff out the remainder of the chocolate bar. She snapped off a small corner of it and offered it to the Silacoid, only to laugh again as the alien chose to snatch up the larger piece (and the rest of her snack). Popping the last bit of chocolate into her mouth with a shrug, she turned her attention to Faulke. "Weir said you wanted to talk to me?"
"I do," replied the Director with a nod. "Have a seat, please. Weaver, Carter, we'll continue the debriefing later. You're welcome to stay for this meeting, if you wish, but for now, you're dismissed."
Summer nodded as she sat in the chair on the other side of Faulke's desk, watching the squad leaders. Predictably, Weaver spun on her heel as she glared daggers at the men in the room, and shot a full-length sword from her eyes at Summer before she left. Carter hesitated, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to be here, before he sighed and grabbed a chair from the side and pulled it up to sit next to Summer. Weir smiled and sat on her other side, content to sip his tea as the Director reached under the desk for a bottle and three small tumblers.
"Oh, is this game where one of the glasses is poisoned and I have to guess which one it is before I drink it?" Summer asked with a smirk, feeling Silas slither off her body to retreat back into a dark corner of the room.
Faulke just chuckled softly as he filled the cups with dark amber liquid. "No, nothing of the sort. You're the first non-hostile alien entity our planet has encountered, and I feel I should apologize for being such a terrible host. This is merely the first of my attempts to make that right."
He slid two of the tumblers down the desk to Carter and Summer, the latter of whom watched as her squad leader picked up the drink and knocked it back in one gulp. By contrast, she picked up her glass and sipped it gracefully, doing her best to keep her face from scrunching up.
"And here I thought I was heading for a shallow grave," said Summer, smacking her lips. "What changed in the week I was locked up?"
"Many things," answered Faulke, swirling his glass. "For one, as you no doubt heard through the door, the Outsiders are continuing to escalate their war efforts. It seems the time of peace we've had following the Roswell operation was long enough for them to refit and rearm even their most basic troops, and with the losses we've suffered thus far, we're not strong enough to counter them. We're training new Agents as fast as we can, but given your...effectiveness, we were forced to re-evaluate you and your actions."
"The notes that Miss Cohen provided were quite informative," said Weir with a small smile. "They helped us build a better picture of what Remnant and her people were like - and more importantly, what you were like. It didn't take long to realize that the Summer Rose that's fought for us for weeks now is the same Summer Rose that's in this room right now - we just know more about the latter, is all."
"Not only that, but I've been monitoring and listening to all the chatter among our operatives within the base," added Faulke. "While there are many people who seek to spread misinformation, either deliberately or by accident, there are also a number of people that speak favorably of you. Notably, Agents Nils and Walters have been working with the rest of Strike Three to remind other agents how much they owe you. Weaver may have a low opinion of you, but other members of Strike One have come forward in your defense, while Strike Five have threatened to leak the Bureau's secrets to their home nations if I didn't arrange for your release. And the mere fact that Cadet Cohen was willing to get into an altercation with someone who spoke ill of you speaks volumes of how much you mean to this base, and this operation. You've changed more lives than you may realize, Miss Rose, and nearly all of them wish to see your return."
Summer felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest. "Wow...r-really? I...didn't realize I was that popular."
"Which is why I feel the need to apologize for your treatment thus far," repeated Faulke. "You represent something truly remarkable, something none of us ever dreamed would come our way, and you felt the need to suppress that part of yourself out of fear. Then, after the truth was revealed, the exact chain of events that you were afraid of happened anyways. It's little wonder you chose to conceal your identity in the first place, considering how we responded to your honesty."
"Given the...circumstances," said Summer as she took another sip with a small wince, "I can understand the rough treatment. The Outsiders have proven they have the ability and the technology to imitate other operatives, so there was no way for you to know if I was still trustworthy after I already proved my willingness and ability to lie. Your caution towards me was warranted, I feel. And I'm sorry for deceiving you all. I never meant to let the lie continue for this long, and it didn't...feel right telling it in the first place."
Weir chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised you managed to keep your secret under wraps for this long, actually. You'd be surprised how nosy some of the people here can be. And lying right to Myron's face is impressive in its own right. The man's like a living lie detector - I can't keep anything from him."
Faulke suppressed a smile as he sampled his own glass. "There's a difference between 'caution' and 'paranoia,' Miss Rose. And I fear that the longer this war wages on, the further we edge into the dangerous side of distrusting anything not like us. Under normal circumstances, your arrival would have been celebrated, and you would have been welcomed with open arms."
Summer raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"For as long as humanity has existed, we've stared up at the night skies with one burning question on our minds - are we alone in the universe?" Faulke leaned forward. "It's certainly something I always wondered as I camped my summer nights away under the stars. In my youth, I would spend entire nights with my sleeping bag poking out of my tent so my eyes would always face the sky, dreaming and wondering about what kind of aliens might be out there, watching us, waiting for a chance to come and visit us. What would they look like? Did they know we were out there? Would they be friendly? The Outsiders certainly answered those questions, even if we may not like the implications of their answer...but your mere existence provides another answer altogether. Not only are there other life forms out there - other humans, even - but some of those life forms are just trying to do what they can, where they can, how they can. Just like us."
The Director of XCOM raised his glass. "Which is why, on behalf of the Bureau of Strategic Operations and Command, and on behalf of humanity as a whole, I'm honored to welcome you to Earth in an official capacity, Summer Rose."
The silver-eyed woman smiled and clinked her own glass against Faulke's. "The honor's all mine, sir, and thank you. It's a lovely world you have here, with a promising future...and I will do whatever must be done to protect it."
"Spoken like a true Agent," said Weir with a warm smile.
"Indeed," said Faulke with a nod. "Speaking of which, we can reinstate your agent status and rank if you still wish to fight. You're under no obligation to do so, of course, but the reality is that morale is better when you're on our side. So it's the least we can do to ensure that your return to the field, should you accept, goes smoothly and favorably for all involved. Hell, just say the word, and I can put you in charge of a Strike Team of your very own."
Summer almost fell out of her chair at the offer. Just a few hours ago, she was considered public enemy number one, and now she was being asked if she wanted to lead an entire squad. It was a generous gesture, and a clear olive branch being extended to her, but it also had value beyond just symbolic - as the head of Team STRQ once upon a time, coupled with her being Strike Three's second-in-command, Summer had valuable leadership experience both on and off the battlefield. That was worth more than all the alien technology combined, and the fact that it was being offered even after her secret was unraveled spoke volumes about Faulke's judgement and trust in her.
And yet...she couldn't help but notice how Carter's grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, how his jaw clenched up. It wasn't jealousy or envy that drove those reactions, it was...something else. She remembered how Penny had said that Carter didn't talk about her at all with anyone else, even when asked. This fact, combined with the hurt in his voice when he arrested her, and how badly the mission had gone without her, painted a clear picture as one conclusion came to mind.
He missed her.
Almost as much as she missed him.
Summer smiled politely. "With all due respect, sir, I appreciate the offer. It's quite generous, and I know it's not one you make lightly. However, for the time being, I believe I would be most effective if I were to remain as the ASL for Strike Three. I'm familiar with the members of the team, I fill a role the squad is otherwise missing, and...I believe that Agent Carter and I work quite well together. I would very much like to return to his side, if he would have me."
Carter nearly dropped his glass in shock. Weir hummed in curiosity. Faulke simply nodded.
"If that is your choice, I think that can be arranged." He looked to Carter. "Well? What do you think? Is that something you would sign off on?"
For a moment, he didn't speak, just turned and looked at Summer with an expression she couldn't figure out. Steel blue eyes stared into silver, almost like they were scanning and looking for something, or waiting for her to change her mind. When the search came up dry and she made no attempt to rescind her statement, he finally nodded tightly and let out a long sigh.
"Very good, then. You're both dismissed. Vigilo Confido...and welcome to Earth, Agent Rose."
If Summer was wearing a hat, she would have tipped it to Faulke as she stood up, but she settled on curtseying with the hem of her blanket. Carter got up and followed her out a moment later, patting his leg to make Silas slither out behind him.
They were halfway back to the mess hall when he finally spoke.
"You didn't have to do that."
She turned and looked at Carter, who was staring at the ground. "Do what?"
"Ask to stay on my team," he grumbled. "Chain yourself down for my sake. You're more than qualified to lead a team of your own, you don't gotta hold back just for me."
Summer smiled and stepped up to Carter, taking his hands in hers. Her fingers were like smooth silk running over scarred steel, tracing the lines and marks left by so many years of bitter work and warfare.
"You're right. I don't have to...but I want to. You're my friend, Will, and I'm not just going to abandon you. I promised you that I would continue to follow you, no matter what the alien artifact turned you into...and even though I hid the truth from you about my past, I did not lie about anything else."
She reached forward and hugged him around the waist, tightly and securely. "Besides...I could have appeared anywhere in the world when I came here. But I showed up in your room, so that has to mean something. You need me watching your back, Will. And I need you watching mine. So let's stick together from now on. No more hiding things. No more secrets. No more lies. From either of us. Promise?"
For the first time since Summer had met the mysterious man, Carter reached out and returned the embrace. It was...a good feeling. Hands placed themselves firmly on her lower back and shoulders, clutching her gently yet protectively. It wasn't the same kind of grip he'd had her in when the Skyranger crashed, where he was more concerned with applying enough force to keep her spine and neck straight in preparation for the impact. This was like covering up with a warm, heavy blanket on a dark, cold night, bringing safety and security and assuredness that nothing could snatch you away as long as you were held.
"Promise."
Summer leaned her cheek against Carter's chest and closed her eyes, grateful to be alive and even more grateful to be back.
Earth was not the same as Remnant, but times like these made it feel like she was home all the same.
