Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lots of character death, canon-typical slash.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just enjoying the characters. Elements of this story are based on The Old Guard: Force Multiplied modified for the movie-verse. Nile's Chicago adventure is from chapter 1 of this works pseudo-companion/same verse piece We Would Do the Same for You
Ramblers in the wilderness, we can't find what we need.
We get a little restless from the searching, get a little worn down in between.
Like a bull chasing the matador is a man left to his own schemes.
Everybody needs someone beside them, shining like a lighthouse from the sea.
-Brother, NEEDTOBREATHE (ft. Gavin DeGraw)
They take it about as well as she expects.
"Have you lost your mind, Andy?" Nile's the first to speak; up on her feet in an instant, brushing aside Nicky's attempt at a calming hand. "You want to go talk to her. Alone."
"I'm with Nile on this one," Joe, this time, hands on his waist as he stands guard by the door, moving only to point in Nile's direction then fix Andy with the purest of incredulous stares. "This plan is absolute shit, Boss."
Andy pauses her packing, trying to reign in the beginnings of a bitter smile. She manages to hide it quickly enough behind the glare she gives both of them. "I'm not seeing a lot of other options on the table, Joe." She frustratedly zips closed the to-go bag on the bed in front of her. "Besides. I don't remember when deciding what we do became a committee event."
"And what if she decides to do the same thing to you that she did to Booker?" Nile demands, unwilling to stand down. Andy glances back over her shoulder at her, catching a glimpse of the aforementioned Frenchman shifting uncomfortably in his seat in the corner. She ignores him for the moment to focus on the real threat. If she can't get Nile on board, then this Hail-Mary isn't going anywhere. "You're not gonna survive that. You can't!"
Any other time, Nile's attitude (not necessarily the insubordination, but the intent behind it) might have pleased Andy. Their youngest had grown increasingly close to and protective of her and the others in the intervening months since they found her. A bond strengthened following one reckless jaunt into Chicago that ended with what, Andy hoped, was closure with her original family. That said, at the moment, her protective streak was shaping up to be a real pain in the ass.
"I know." Andy turns to face Nile, stepping slightly forward to close the already narrow space between them. She sees Nicky shoot a nervous glance to Joe out of the corner of her eye. He'll intervene between the pair of them if he must, but she knows he's loathe to do so. Family fights don't often end well for the arbitrator of peace. "But this is the only chance we have to keep this from getting worse. I'm the only one on this...fucking planet that's known her for most of her life. The only one with any chance of talking her down from whatever..."
"Cliff she's on?" Nile supplies. It isn't quite a surrender, but at least a partial armistice. Of course, that's when a new challenger enters the arena.
"She's still Quynh." Nicky's risen to his feet as well, a look of iron resolution on his face. Andy knew he and Joe would be the hardest sell. Like her, they're still reconciling the memories they have of Quynh with the woman they met less than twenty-four hours ago. "Joe and I should go with you at least."
"I appreciate the offer, Nicky." She smiles sadly at him, reaching up to cup his cheek affectionately. "But I need you here for Nile. Both of you." She glances over at Joe, who looks for all the world like he's being asked to sell out his own mother. She turns back, resigned. "I go first."
"You always go first," Nile mutters softly, eyes closed as she sinks defeatedly to her seat on the bed.
Andy looks between all three of them, feels the weight of what she's asking them to do. She wonders if it's the mortality that's made the asking so hard. But it's just the right amount of pressure, she finds. Nicky still looks ready to argue; yet it's Joe, arms crossed as he shuffles uncomfortably, who provides the last concession. "We'll follow your lead, Boss...But I still think this plan is shit."
Andy nods gratefully to him, then swivels to face the other side of the room. "Booker?"
He's still sitting in the corner chair apart from all of them. Andy's a little surprised he didn't make a comment earlier when Nile mentioned his torture at Quynh's hands. Then again, he hasn't really said much of anything since the rescue. A few replies here and there, relaying pertinent information and enough personality to keep the rest of them from outright worrying. She recognizes he's trying not to rock the boat, waiting to see, once the shock's worn off, when the other shoe drops. Just like when he asked her what the plan was during their escape. She wishes she had the time to assure him.
He swallows and meets her eyes. "Whatever you need, Boss."
They head east, towards Switzerland. A tactical retreat. There's a cabin in the Bernese Alps. An old hunter's camp Andy, Nicky, and Joe once used during the winter of 1812, shortly before locating Booker. It's the only place Andy can remember neither Booker nor Nile have been before, certainly somewhere Quynh's never seen. A safe place for them to stay while Copley tries to pass a message through Quynh's criminal network. It's still a concept Andy finds hard to wrap her mind around. The original structure is gone, long ago replaced by a modern replicate meant as a commercial hideaway from the bustle of the real world.
"I'll take the couch," Booker says, the first one through the door. He makes a beeline for the spot, stopping only to drop his bag down next to the fireplace, tucked out of the way of foot traffic.
"Two bedrooms in the back," Andy remarks, placing her encased labrys on the table next to the door. "Nile and I'll take the east side."
Joe spins in the narrow walkway between the couch and wall, taking in the space with a bemused expression. "It used to be so much smaller."
He grins over at Nicky, standing at the entrance to the kitchen. The other man rolls his eyes, smirking in spite of himself, turns, and heads into the other room. Opening a few cupboards, he takes note of the utensils available and the ones they'll need to pick up from town. He can hear Nile close the door behind her. Walking back into the main living room, he sees she's crouched next to Booker at the fireplace, helping him get a fire started to add more heat to the room. He motions to Joe, announcing, "We're heading into town for supplies."
Nile sticks her head up as they pass. "Need any help?"
"I think we've got this one, Nile," Nicky wraps an arm comfortably around Joe's shoulders. Nile rolls her eyes, sighing audibly before returning her attention back to the fire. Nicky feels Joe's arm momentarily wrap around his waist before they separate to step through the door. Closing it behind them, he turns back to see Joe's eyebrows now curled in a pensive expression.
"What is it?"
"We can't let her go alone, Nicolò ." Joe says, slipping quietly into Italian. Nicky frowns. He agrees with Joe wholeheartedly, but this isn't the time or place to discuss it. Glancing over at the car, he says as much.
"Not here. She'll know what we're saying."
Joe snorts bitterly, but takes his meaning. As they head to the car, he looks back at the cabin, eyes glazing as he's momentarily lost in some faraway memory. The spell is broken too quickly for Nicky to ask what he's seeing.
The flames crackle and spark to steady life beneath his hands. Booker sits back on his heels, watching with satisfaction as they greedily consume the last of the tinder, catching easily onto the larger logs in the hearth. He glances out of the corner of eye at the young woman next to him. "You might as well ask whatever it is you want to ask me, Nile."
He sees her gaze flicker guiltily off of him towards the flames. She's scrutinizing him, has been for a while, indecision drawn tight across her features every time she looks at him. Something shifts as he waits for her response and, when she turns her head to face him, she looks as impassive as stone.
"Are you going to be alright?"
He laughs, genuinely laughs for what feels like the first time in an eternity. It's clearly not the reaction she's expecting. Nile's eyes widen temporarily in shock, which only urges him to want to laugh even more. He reigns it in, though, wiping a thumb absently across his brow. Rising to his feet, he brushes non-existent dirt off his hands and moves to take a seat on the nearest arm of the L-shaped couch. More out of habit than anything, he pulls out his flask and takes a swig. He studies her for a moment, chuckles, and finally replies, "Six months. Six months and that's the first thing you want to know? How I'm doing?"
She inhales sharply, closing her eyes as she lets the breathe go. Opening them again, she pushes herself to her feet. Steps into the space he just occupied, crossing her arms as she glowers impatiently at him. "Would you prefer I ask why instead?"
Merde. He's forgotten how clever she actually is.
"That's not necessary," he says, breaking eye contact first. He examines the flask for a moment then stows it back into his pocket. She approaches, settling down in the seat next to him. They sit in silence, nothing but the snap of burning wood and Andy's voice speaking quietly through the wall to fill the space around them. "And in answer to your question I'll be fine."
"Could of fooled me."
He smirks at that. "It's not the first time I've been captured, Nile." he amends, attempting to make the words sound as comforting as possible. "It won't be the last."
Her face twists in disgust. "Weren't you the one who told me we can still be hurt even if we don't die?"
He sighs. She's still so very, very young. "I did."
She looks up at him as if her point is obvious. It is, but he's suddenly too tired to acknowledge or fight with her about it. "Nile-"
"Look," she interrupts him, her firm tone more than anything stopping him cold. "I get that you, all of you, have centuries of experience. Which, to my mind and in my experience, makes you marginally better then the rest of us at pretending this shit doesn't bother you. But it's still pretending. So this is not my big trying-to-fix-you or get-over-it speech or anything stupid like that, I just..." She drifts off, clenching her hand absently into a fist. "You know Joe was practically the first one out the door when you were taken?"
He hadn't, of course, but the news didn't surprise him. Booker knew Joe's temper could burn hot, fast, and fierce (knew it in the labs when he deserved the full force of it). He also knew it came with a loyalty so deep it would take an idiot to try and stand against Joe when his family was in danger. Still, the reminder he was included among that number was nice to have again. It takes Booker a second to realize Nile was waiting for an answer. "No...No, I didn't know that."
"It's true." She seems to still be trying to piece together what it is she wants to say. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't let yourself drow-" She pauses, blanching as she realizes what she's about to say. Quickly, she amends. "Don't let yourself get overwhelmed thinking we're not willing to help, okay? Because it seems the last time you did that it ended with me having to dive out of a twenty-story building and I'd really, really rather not do that again."
They both burst out laughing this time. It feels good to do so, to share that laughter with someone. Better than Booker's felt in a long time. He's laughing so hard he has to wipe away tears as Andy comes in from the bedroom hallway. He suspects, by her relaxed stance, she's been listening to him and NIle speak. She doesn't make a comment either way, however. Instead, she gives them the second they need to collect themselves, glancing down at her phone, before casually stating, "It looks like they cleared space for a small yard in the back. Might be good for training while we wait. Book, you want to get it set up?"
"Sure thing, Boss." He nods, standing. He squeezes Nile's shoulder appreciatively before heading for the front door, the weight inside him just a little lighter than it's been the last few weeks.
"Just keep me up-to-date, Copley." She says, putting an end to the call. She can hear Nile and Booker talking quietly in the main room, heard Nicky's announcement that he and Joe were heading into town. She's going to need to keep an eye on the pair of them the next few days or for however long it takes to get in contact with Quynh. They may have agreed to her orders in Le Havre, but she knows them too well. Talking to Quynh isn't something they're just going to let her do by herself.
She runs a hand through her hair as she steps up to the window. The landscape look picturesque behind the cabin, much tamer than it had ever been back in 1812. She finds herself inadvertently smiling at the memory of that time. Four days snowed in with a fresh supply of rations and not much else. That was the first night they dreamed about Booker and Andy had woken feeling something akin to hope for the first time in nearly three centuries. That hope bled into the remaining days, leaving behind some of the fondest memories she had with Joe and Nicky. It was only after finding Booker and being told he hadn't dreamed of Quynh that she decided she never wanted to see this place again. Until now, that is.
"Look!" Nile's emphatic exclamation draws her attention. Quietly, she steps out of the bedroom, creeping over to stand behind the hallway entrance. She listens to their conversation, glad to see some of the -she hates to call it magic, perhaps just good energy- about the place hasn't totally been replaced by the remodeling. As they break out into laughter, she takes it as her cue to enter.
Nile nods to her, acknowledging her entrance, before breaking further into a scattered fit of giggles. Booker's laugh has taken on a touch of desperation, but he, too, seems to realize she's entered the room and has begun to calm himself down. The phone in her pocket vibrates.
It's too soon to be Copley, meaning Joe or Nicky are checking in if anyone needs anything. She fishes the conveniently inconvenient piece of technology out of her pocket, flipping it open to read the screen. The blood runs cold in her veins.
Meet me where it began. I'll be waiting.
Dun, dun, DunnNNNN
Translations:*
Merde - Shit
*I do not speak French. Please take up any conjugation issues with Google Translate.