A/N: Warning! This is a violent chapter. I would like to say that I know nothing of the military, I know some terrible stuff happens and I respect those who serve. But my immediate knowledge of it extends to video games. So this chapter is completely fictional. Its sole purpose is to give Beca's flashback and why she is traumatized. Again, there is some graphic violence in this chapter, if that disturbs you, feel free to skip. Also this is not commentary on war or any ethnicities. There are bad people of all races, religions, and genders so please don't take this as an attack on anyone. Again, bad stuff happens to people in the military sometimes, this is just to explain Beca's PTSD, not an outlet for my personal feelings. I tried to leave names and religion vague to not take away from Beca's story. Thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts!
Chapter 27: The Military
Flashback: Afghanistan
Beca's team had a simple mission. Simple but important. It was only a couple weeks ago she had gone to Denver to get Fisher to come on one last military adventure before doing something more calm and stable for his family. She would miss having him on her team, he was talented, but she was more excited for him to start his little family with the love of his life. As the chopper landed, she took a deep breath and tried to ignore all thoughts of back home and focus on their mission.
There was a terrorist leader and several high ranking men with him in a house. They would be unsuspecting and easy to take out. In another house was a bomb that was planned to take out an entire city if the terrorists were killed. There was a large amount of information and equipment also stored at that house which could greatly benefit the US military operations. The terrorist house was nearby but according to intel findings, just out of range of the potential blast. Beca and her team landed in the chopper and quickly fanned out as it flew away back to their small base. Beca made eye contact with the other nine and stood tall.
"Okay, we've got two buildings to take care of. The first is rigged with explosives to take out this whole village. The other is housing our terrorist and his men. They will be armed and dangerous. So I'm sending 7 of you there. I'll go to the house with the bomb with two others to disarm it and then gather all the intel. Fisher you take the group to the coordinates to the 'B' house. You two." She pointed at two other soldiers as she began walking. "With me."
Beca had a weird feeling as she navigated her way to the house. The street seemed desolate. The bomb was supposed to take out a neighborhood. What good was that if it was basically abandoned? She hesitated and thought about switching the teams. Her gut was telling her that the bomb would be at the other house, but Fisher had already moved close into position. She paused and looked around, trying to shake her uneasy feeling.
"You good, Sarge?" A soldier asked.
"Yeah, I just think-" She paused. She wasn't one to second guess orders. That was part of being in the military. You did what you were told and didn't stray from the plan. There wasn't time to be impulsive or to go off of gut feelings. There were hundreds of intel specialists that gathered information for missions like this. Beca needed to trust them. "Nothing. It's fine. Let's go."
Fisher led his group down the gravelly path of the village. It looked to be abandoned, but really people were just hiding in their homes, unsure of what American soldiers were doing. They were there to save their lives, but fear is a powerful thing. He saw face after poorly hidden face and was confused.
"I thought this neighborhood was supposed to be abandoned?" Fisher whispered to the soldier beside him, who just shrugged.
"Is Sarge ever wrong?"
"Not that I've ever seen." Fisher sighed, believing in his superiors. "Guess I'm just paranoid. Let's go, we're almost there."
Beca walked up the steps to building 'A' with her gun pointed forward as she opened the door quickly. She was going in to diffuse the bomb since she was the only one with slightly extensive training. She sent more men to the other house since they would need more backup. As she scanned the first room, she couldn't see any signs of the bomb so she motioned for her men to follow as she kept searching.
She turned a corner into the next room and heard a thud and click sound behind her. She spun around to see two masked men with guns on her soldiers and one man with a gun inches from her head. She realized with a sinking feeling that she had massively underestimate this group.
"Gun. Down." The man nodded his head toward her gun. She slowly lowered her gun to the floor and before she knew it everything went black and the last thing she felt was the butt of a gun hitting the back of her head.
When she groggily came to, her vision came back into focus on her two soldiers sitting across the room from her, tied up just like her with two men hovering close with guns at their heads. Four men stood by the door. And their leader hovered over her, looking pleased that she was finally awake.
"Welcome back." He started pacing in front of her with his hands behind his back. "I have a proposition for you. I will let you and your men go free and all you need to do is give me two numbers. I want the coordinates to your base of operations here."
"Fuck you." Beca spat and received a quick slap across the cheek in return.
"I'm not a patient man." He knelt down to look eye to eye at her, his whisper threatening. He snapped a finger over his head, signaling to one of his soldiers. Beca's eyes darted where she saw movement. The soldier quickly, and without warning cut off the hand of her soldier, Trevor Hillman. He was married with two young boys at home. Beca remembered the nauseatingly adorable Christmas cards he would send. They looked just like him, and she wished she could put their faces out of her mind's eye right now.
The blood-curdling scream made Beca wince and close her eyes.
"Look at him!" The leader yanked her by the hair to lift her head back up. She opened her watery eyes to see Trevor writhing and crying in pain. She took a deep breath and gulped, knowing it would only get worse from here.
"Now, do you want to play nice?" The leader stood again and his voice had returned to a normal and calm tone. "Tell me the coords."
"Don't tell him, Sarge!" Trevor cried out as he leaned to the side in agony. The leader, unappreciative of his outburst, took out his pistol and shot him in both knee caps. The screams only intensified. Beca choked back a sob, feeling responsible for this mess. Everything was unraveling out of her control.
"Give me what I want." The leader growled as he returned his pistol to its holster. Beca clenched her jaw, just glaring back at him through her blurred vision, trying to blink back tears. "Fine. Have it your way." He gave a nod to the soldier beside Trevor and he quickly brought his knife out and in one swift move, slit his throat. The agonizing cries of pain stopped. They were replaced by a choking, gurgling sound, before all sounds stopped. The soldier kicked Trevor's body to the floor and stood at attention as if nothing had happened.
Beca was shaking with grief, rage, and fear. Her eyes moved to her other soldier, Danny Pelarmo. He didn't have a wife and kids back home, but he had a mother and two younger sisters. His father had left them years ago, so he was the one responsible for taking care of them. And last year, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. He looked back at Beca with a mixture of both fear and determination. It was like he already knew what his fate would be. And he was going to do down with pride for his country. Beca was racking her brain for an idea. Any idea. If only she could reach her walkie-talkie.
"See, you Americans are weak. You get too emotionally attached to your fellow soldiers. Your emotions will be the death of you. Me on the other hand?" The leader grinned devilishly. "I can do this and not think twice." He yanked his pistol out, spun and pointed at one of his own men before firing a single bullet through his head. "Dispose of that." He ordered two other soldiers as he re-holstered. "Didn't even blink an eye."
"Burn in hell, you sick motherfucker." Beca said between gritted teeth.
"Tell me the coords." He knelt down again and glared into Beca's eyes. For a moment, Beca considered giving it away. She could warn them before anything happened and she could still save her team. But rational thought returned. They wouldn't let her live whether she told them or not. There was no getting out of this. And she felt so defeated.
The leader stood and pulled out his own knife. He strolled over to Danny, who refused to look at him. Danny sat stone-faced, straight as a board, prepared for torture. Beca watched as the knife was put against Danny's bobbing throat.
"It's okay, Sarge." Danny's eyes started to fill with tears. "It's okay."
"Last chance to save his life." The leader applied a bit more pressure, causing a small drop of blood to come out of Danny's neck. Beca stayed rigid and maintained eye contact with Danny. It was the least she could do. Let him go out looking at someone who loved him and cared for him.
"God bless America." Danny whispered before the leader angrily swiped the knife to prevent any more words coming out. He angrily kicked the chair to send Danny lying close to Trevor. He marched into the kitchen and brought back a computer.
"Alright, you stubborn bitch." He pulled up a screen and set it in front of Beca. "You thought you had such a good plan to come in here and foil mine? Well the rest of your team just entered a trap. That house is rigged from top to bottom. And all I have to do is press one button and the countdown will start. And you will get to sit and watch as your men will have plenty of time to escape but they will stay. Because those were your orders. And they will die because of you."
Beca gritted her teeth as she watched Fisher and the others appear on the screen. They were searching the house for terrorists, but finding nothing. She so desperately just wanted to grab her walkie-talkie and scream for them to get out.
"I will never tell you where our base is. And you, asshole, will never win. You might kill me and my team, but you won't win."
"You are a fool, Sergeant Mitchell." The leader pressed the button and Beca saw a 10 minute countdown begin. She had been working on the rope that bound her hands by rubbing it against a wayward nail in the back of her chair. She felt it finally loosen as the leader looked smugly at her from his bent knee. She took a deep breath and leaned her head back. Before he had a clue what was happening Beca slammed her forehead into his and shook off the rest of the rope. The soldiers raised their guns but she hurled the chair in their direction, knocking them off balance. It gave her just enough time to grab her pistol and shoot two down quickly. She spun and kicked the gun out of the other soldier's hands before stealing his knife and cutting his own throat in revenge.
The leader was groaning and sitting up as Beca finished off his remaining soldiers. He looked around at what had transpired in the past 30 seconds, baffled. Beca kicked him in the jaw before pointing her pistol at him.
"Deactivate the bomb." Beca ordered. She received laughter as an answer.
"Roles have reversed it appears." He chuckled. "I am content with death. I will die with honor. And I will die pleased knowing I killed all of your men. And you are alive to suffer." He smiled an evil smile through bloody teeth. Once again Beca was shaking with rage. She couldn't think of a way to kill him that would be good enough, painful enough. But she had to be quick; she had to save her men.
"As I said earlier." Beca tightened her grip on her gun. "Rot in hell, motherfucker." She shot him once in both ankles. Both knees. Both elbows. He was shouting and cursing from pain, unable to move. He was breathing heavily as he glared at her, nearly foaming at the mouth. "It takes about 15 minutes to bleed out from a deep stab wound to the stomach." Beca said as she stole his knife from his pocket. He only glared back at her with rage in his eyes and no words, unable to move his limbs. She shoved the knife into his stomach, glaring at him with her own fury. She slid the knife across his stomach before removing it. He laid there choking and groaning in pain as his limbs were useless. A pool of blood slowly started to appear beneath him. Beca dropped his knife with one last look into his eyes to say that she had won.
She then took off in a dead sprint to the house in the other neighborhood where her men were.
"Fisher! Get out!" She screamed into her walkie-talkie as she jumped over random obstacles and pumped her legs to move faster. There was static and Fisher's voice coming in and out. He couldn't hear her. She just kept screaming to get out of the house in hopes that it would come through clear on Fisher's end at some point.
She felt like her heart was beating out of her chest. There was a sharp pain in her side, her breaths felt like needles every time she inhaled. She just saw beige and concrete racing by as she kept sprinting at a fairly steady pace. She knew there were about 3 and a half minutes left until the bomb went off as she finally reached the door.
"Get out!" She shouted as soon as she entered. Fisher came down the steps, gun in hand.
"Sarge, we haven't found them yet." He looked confused at her frantic eyes and pacing.
"Wrong house. Bomb." Beca put her hands on her head trying to catch her breath.
"Where?" Fisher asked. "We've searched the whole house."
"Basement?" Beca asked as her heart rate slowed down just a little. Fisher shook his head and went down the steps in the kitchen area to the basement.
"Fisher! We have to get out now! Where is everyone?" Beca grabbed him by the arm.
"Upstairs searching."
"For people they aren't going to find! We have to leave the bomb's going to go off in a couple minutes. I watched him activate it." Beca pleaded with Fisher to move.
"Sarge, you can diffuse it. There's actually good intel in this house. Might be worth saving." Fisher wasn't understanding the gravity of the situation. There wasn't time for debate.
"Dammit, Fisher. Get out of the house. That's an order!"
"Beca-"
"No! Its not worth our lives. Now get out!" Beca gave him a shove and then sprinted upstairs to get the rest of her team. She found them gathering information off of computers and from filing cabinets. As she was ordering them to get out of the house she heard the explosion. The walls burst before her eyes and they were all falling with the debris to the first floor. She watched as two soldiers were thrown through the window, bloodied messes. She watched as another struggled to stand only to have a wall collapse on his body, crushing him. The other soldiers were lying in the room now with Beca, lifeless, various limbs unattached from their bodies. Beca didn't have time to even double check their status, even though she knew they were dead, because she looked up and a pillar was wavering and beginning to crumble above her. She tried to push herself up to get out of the way but let out a pained yelp, realizing her foot had been crushed and was stuck under rubble. She was high on adrenaline to not feel the pain, but as she looked down at her mutilated foot, she felt all that pain crash on her in a powerful wave. She looked back up to see the pillar start to fall. She heard a shrieked, "Sarge!" and opened her eyes to see Fisher jump on top of her and brace himself.
"Fisher!" Beca tried to push him, but his body was built like a rock. He closed his eyes as the pillar came crashing down. She heard the thud as it hit him in the head and his protective stance over Beca immediately fell. The pillar rolled away and Fisher fell against Beca.
"Fisher! Fisher!" Beca shook his shoulders, but was greeted with lifeless silence. She couldn't move. And his body laid on top of her with blood slowly seeping from his skull. She sighed in defeat and looked at the sky above her. Embracing the pain and the horror she'd endured for the past thirty minutes or so, she let out a deep sigh. Her eyes closed and when they opened they were filled with tears. This was it. This was the end. She caused the death of her entire team. Including her good friend, Henry Fisher. He died saving her. He should've run. She hated herself more in that moment than any other throughout her entire life. Her body was catching up with her adrenaline and she started feeling all the pain from head to toe. Especially her leg. She was sure it was a useless mangled mess at this point. But she didn't care if she ever walked again. Because in that moment, she truly hoped she would die in that pile of rubble alongside her soldiers that she had let down. Her eyes were getting sleepy and she embraced sleep, hoping to never wake up. The last thing she saw in consciousness was a helicopter landing and soldiers and medics sprinting out to help.
The next time she regained consciousness, her eyes blinked slowly open to reveal a bright, white room smelling of disinfectant. There was a low hum and soft beeping coming from a machine on her right. She breathed in deeply and felt a sharp pain in her side and then heard the beeping pick up pace.
"Where the fuck am I?" She mumbled to herself, or so she thought.
"The hospital." Annie's voice was groggy as she stirred in the leather chair beside Beca.
"Annie." Beca's eyes widened and she tried to move away, but was clearly lacking the basic motor functions to move. The sharp jolts of pain she felt didn't help her locomotion either.
"You've been out for three days." Annie said quietly, a hand absent-mindedly rubbing her very pregnant belly.
"You should go." Beca closed her eyes, trying to prevent any memories from flashing vividly in her mind. "He died saving me. Just let me be alone, I don't deserve for you of all people to care about me."
"Don't you dare." Annie stood up. "Don't you dare try to just push me away because of what happened. I'm hurting, Beca. And so are you, not just physically." Annie sniffed and wiped a stray tear from her eye. "I can't do this alone. I lost my husband, Beca." Her voice cracked and it took all her strength to not break down. "Don't just push me out of your life because you're hurting and feel guilty. Because its not your fault."
"Yes, it is, Annie." Beca kept her head tilted the opposite direction so she didn't have to look at Fisher's wife. "I knew something was wrong and instead of trusting my gut I led my team right into a trap. They died because of me."
"You followed orders, Beca! I know how the military is. You all did what you were supposed to. Its no one's fault except the sons of bitch terrorists who are the actual responsible party for my husband's death. And if he were here now he'd tell you to get over yourself and make the most of the life you still get to have. You don't get to go wallow in some hole because you want to bask in self-pity. If you want to honor Henry's memory, you'll be there for me. You'll be there for his son. And so help me God if you try and push me away-"
"I won't." Beca interrupted. "I won't…"
"You're going to be out of here soon." Annie sniffed as she wiped a tear away. "And so is Henry Jr." She looked down at her round stomach. "Please. Please, be there for him. For both of us. No one else in my life will really understand the pain I'm feeling with this. And we can help each other, okay?"
"Okay." Beca whispered, her vision getting blurry by the tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to linger in her self-loathing, but she knew she was stronger than that. She'd have to be stronger than that. She owed Fisher that much, to be there to help his wife and son that he'd never meet.
Annie was on Beca's ass every day in the hospital. She made sure she went to PT, stayed positive, ate food, and didn't spend too much time alone to hate herself. And when Henry was born she demanded Beca meet him and be a part of his life. The first time Beca met him she was walking with a cane and he was the size of her forearm. He was so little. Beca and Annie cried together so many times. She gave Beca a place to stay after the hospital since Beca wasn't ready to move back to her apartment just yet. They were like a weird little family.
Beca had progressed and was ahead of schedule, according to Doctors, in her recovery process. A lower leg that was expected to be amputated was well on the path to healing. She was working to not walk with a limp and was growing restless being confined to Annie's house most of the days aside from physical therapy.
She limped through the house one morning, dressed nicer than Annie had seen in awhile. Annie was finishing cleaning Henry Jr. up from a messy breakfast and she gave Beca a playful whistle.
"Lookin' snazzy. Got a hot date?"
"I really need to get back into shape if you think this is snazzy." Beca looked down at her plain white button down shirt, rolled up to her elbows and dark blue jeans, sans holes.
"Where are you off to?"
"Have a meeting with the General." Beca said nonchalantly as she slipped into her shoes.
"Beca…" Annie sighed, trying to give Beca warning.
"No, I don't need to hear negativity. I need to get back to work. It's been 8 months."
"You know how the military is…"
"I broke a bone. I didn't lose a limb or have a massive trauma."
"You did have a massive trauma!" Annie yelled out in frustration, making Henry start to whimper in his high chair. "You almost lost your leg. And you broke not a single bone, but 18. Not to mention the psychological counseling you refused."
"I don't need fucking counseling!" Beca shouted and immediately closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry for cursing in front of Henry. But look, I need to get back in the field. I need to get back to having a purpose."
Beca left Annie as she took the small beat up toyota camry that Annie's parents had given her when they bought their own new car. She hated it. But she was glad to have it once she was given the pass to drive again.
Her meeting with the General didn't go as planned. He told her in no uncertain terms, she was being honorably discharged from the military.
"But what else am I going to do? I'm fine!" Beca shouted in his office.
"Mitchell, this isn't up for debate. We're giving you a handsome retiring package, a medal of honor, and a monthly check for the rest of your life. You should-"
"I don't give a fuck about money! And I sure as hell don't want that fucking medal!" Beca was completely losing her cool as she paced in the office with a noticeable limp. "I need to serve my country!"
"There are other ways." The General sighed. "But you can't be in the military anymore. At least not in the field. We reject candidates with lesser injuries than you've suffered."
"Fuck you." Beca stormed out, medal in hand, taking off driving to who knows where.
She came up to a motorcycle dealership. She stared at the bikes from the drivers' seat of her car, wanting to be impulsive. Within 20 minutes, she had traded her medal, the car and a large chunk of the retirement cash for a bike. She named it Stella and drove.
She went to Annie's, not finished with her impulsivity, and packed her few personal things that she had at Annie's into one duffel. The spare room in which she was staying was now fully empty. She was going to drive to her apartment across the country to pack and ship the rest of her belongings to a new address. One she had found while casually looking up places in D.C. One she found when she considered a job offer to be part of the CIA if her military career was over. A job offer she had no idea why was offered to her, but she knew now she had no choice but to accept it. She left a note to Annie with some money and a new address if she ever felt like visiting. Because Beca took off on her new bike with her duffel bag, looking for a new city, new life, new job, and new purpose.
End Flashback
"Annie was beyond pissed once I told her I ended up in D.C and taking an offer from the CIA. I took off for two days before contacting her or returning calls. She had every right to be angry. But I had to leave. My life in the military was over. I started having nightmares, and I knew it was hard for Annie. I suggested she move to D.C near her parents. She resisted for awhile, still bitter at me for leaving. We've mended our friendship, thankfully. But, the past couple years have been really hard. I drink more than I used to, hoping to numb my thoughts at least a little. I almost didn't take this job because I wasn't sure if I'd be capable. Sometimes I wish I hadn't sold that medal. I want to be able to look at it and remember why I have it and remember to not make the same mistakes. And I know you think I'm just this impulsive carefree agent sometimes, but I have doubts on every mission. I'm terrified I'm going to screw up again. I'm terrified I'm going to do something to get you killed."
"Beca…" Chloe whispered softly and stroked Beca's cheek.
"I don't need you to tell me otherwise. I know I'm being hard on myself, it's hard not to. In my nightmares I see the faces of the men who died on my team. Sometimes there's a bomb; sometimes they're brutally murdered in front of me and I can't do anything about it; and sometimes I see the little boy I killed. Their faces are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. But you've been the first thing to make me happy that I survived that day in Afghanistan. I mean I love Annie and Henry, but even when I lived with them I wished I had died instead of Fisher. But you...you make me glad to be alive. I'm glad I survived because I get to be your partner...in the field and in life." Beca shrugged, feeling like her words weren't doing her feelings justice. Chloe pursed her lips, once again biting back saying the L-word. She just leaned in to give Beca a firm reassuring kiss.
"I'm so glad you're my partner." Chloe whispered as she leaned her head against Beca's.
"I just hate that I feel like some cliche ex-military person who comes back with PTSD. I just want it to go away."
"You're not a cliche." Chloe said firmly. "Things that happen in the military are traumatic. It happens. You aren't weak or foolish for dealing with this."
"I wish I could just sleep without worrying about some nightmare waking me up and reminding me of my mistakes instead of just being able to move on."
"How about from now on when you have one of your nightmares we do something together? So you don't dwell."
"Like what?"
"Well, sex could be one option." Chloe grinned. "Although not again tonight, I'm already sore." Beca let out a haughty laugh. "We could paint, work out, you could teach me music stuff. And whenever you feel like sleeping again, we go back to bed." She shrugged her shoulders like it was a simple plan.
"I don't want to make you lose sleep." Beca shook her head as she took another sip from the glass.
"If I'm really tired, I'll stay in bed so you don't feel guilty. But I'd really rather be up with you, helping if I can."
"You're too good for someone like me." Beca sighed.
"I think we've both been through enough stuff that we're actually kind of perfect for each other. I was just too stubborn at the beginning to realize it."
"How did you…" Beca started to ask, being serious again. "How did you learn to cope with feeling responsible for Price's death?"
Chloe felt like the wind was knocked out of her at such a question. She wasn't upset with being asked, but she wished she had more time to prepare, especially after such a story from Beca.
"I don't think...I'll ever not feel responsible." Chloe sighed. "I think I move past it by hoping all the actions I make from here on out save enough lives to make me feel like mine is worth it."
Beca nodded with a small smile. "Wow. That's a good answer."
They stayed up for a little while longer, talking about less serious matters, even laughing here and there until Beca let out a yawn. Chloe smiled at her as she rose from the table and held out her hand. Beca grabbed it without hesitation and they went back to bed. Chloe feeling closer to Beca than ever, and not just because the brunette wasted no time in wrapping her petite body around hers. She closed her eyes as she held Beca's hand that lay around her waist. Beca had helped her more than Beca could ever realize. Chloe could only hope she had a similar impact on Beca. But she knew that they were stronger together. And she was fairly certain neither of them would be able to find a more perfect partner.