Near Death Experience – Chapter 8
A/N: In this chapter, we continue to learn more about what led to the change in Reese and Carter's relationship. This chapter is from Reese's POV.
Years ago, before he was paired with Kara, Reese was part of a four man team that was tasked with blowing up enemy supply depots in the mountains of Afghanistan. The extraction helicopter crashed and they were pinned down in the darkness, watching their ammunition dwindle as they held off advancing insurgents, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. Most of the helicopter crew and the team were dead – all that remained were Reese and two other men, all seriously injured.
As the night went on, both sides went into a waiting game, waiting for dawn and the final assault.
Lying there in the freezing cold, the three Americans began talking about different movie characters last (not always dying) words, like "Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten me into.*", casually debating which one they would use:
"The horror, the horror." – Colonel Kurtz, Apocalypse Now
"Freedom!," William Wallace, Braveheart,
"Oh, Nooooo!" – Goodfellas
"Made it Ma, top of the world!" – White Heat. Appropriate, considering how high up they were.
"All those moments will be lost in time, like tears... in rain. Time... to die." – Blade Runner
"Rosebud." – they agreed that Citizen Kane was one of those movies which everyone had heard of, but nobody ever saw.
"I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille." One man piped up. But neither Reese or the other man knew the movie he was talking about, and he died shortly afterwards.**
"I have been, and always will be, your friend. Live long... and prosper." – Spock, The Wrath of Khan
"Nobody's perfect." – Some Like It Hot
By the time reinforcements arrived, Reese was the only one alive and as he was being carried into the helicopter, he tried, but couldn't remember which quote he said he would have used.
XXX
"John!"
Her voice had been like everything else about her - clear, determined and strong.
"Carter…"
He'd sounded old, weak and tired.
It used to be easier, Reese swore as he neared the door to the rooftop.
When Snow knocked him to the ground in the hallway, he'd just lay there. So what if he'd gone without sleep for days, been beaten, almost flattened by a truck, had a bomb vest attached to him and been left to die?
He should have been able to get up and make his way to the roof before Joss and Fusco arrived.
Reese had heard their footsteps, hell, he'd practically heard Fusco wheezing – Lionel looked like he was going to die before Reese did.
But instead Reese just stood there.
Of course, it wasn't like in the movies, there were no quips or soaring declarations, no famous last words, nothing they would repeat if they raised a glass to him.
There were tears and clasped arms, one last look.
He'd said thank you. And perhaps that was enough.
In the end, it was like any other mission with the team. Reese had spoken to Finch on the phone, Fusco had done what he asked – after being told more than once - and Joss had argued and fussed at him.
Reese couldn't help but smile as he opened the rooftop door - she was still trying to tell him what to do.
XXX
Reese and Finch walked down to the twentieth floor and rode the elevator to the ground floor. The lobby was deserted as all of the emergency responders had run out of the building when they heard the explosion and they were able to walk outside and blend into the crowd viewing the aftermath of the blast. Curious bystanders, just like everyone else, they attracted no attention.
Reese kept the vest on – he'd remove it once they left the scene.
As Reese's eyes scanned the area, he made out Joss' and Fusco's silhouettes through the smoke on the other side. They were conferring with two other police officers. Joss' head tilted just a little their way and he knew she had seen them.
The police officers split up – Joss and Fusco headed one way and the other officers headed the other - and began pushing the crowd back – the heat from the explosion was so intense that small pieces from the wreckage were sizzling and spinning off, endangering the crowd. Fusco's raspy bark mingled with Joss' softer, but equally authoritative shout as they came closer.
One tearful bystander touched Joss' sleeve and she stopped, nodding to Fusco to continue. He moved towards Reese and Finch, paused for a second, raised an eyebrow and then moved on.
Joss spent a few moments with the bystander and then she began to walk towards them again. As she came closer, there was a scream as a piece of the wreckage flew at her. Reese surged forward, but the piece missed her and fell to the ground, his movement lost as a crush of people clustered around her, asking if she was okay.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, stay back, please!" Joss turned to Fusco, yelled that she was alright and then turned back to the crowd.
Her eyes met Finch's first, then slowly met Reese's. A sudden spurt of flames behind her lit her whole body in a corona of red as she gave him that look, the look that said that she wanted to hug him and slug him at the same time.
Then, just for a moment, her eyes were soft and there was the barest hint of a smile on her lips.
She continued on, moving the bystanders back.
Finch and Reese slipped around the corner, to Finch's car parked nearby.
"Is there anything you need, John?" Harold asked as he drove away.
Reese tossed the bomb vest in the back seat, smiling softly as Harold's wince as the contraption thudded to the floor. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.
"A coat."
Finch frowned. "A coat?"
"For her…she needs a coat, Harold. A real coat."
Not that camel monstrosity or the gray schoolgirl coat. Even the coat she'd worn last night, while serviceable, didn't do Joss justice. It was a tribute to her beauty and the way she carried herself that she shone no matter what she wore.
"A real coat," Reese said again. "Red, made for her, a 'good winter coat.' My grandmother used to say that."
"I think all of our grandmothers said that," Finch smiled. "I'll take care of it."
They were silent the rest of the way, until Finch turned into John's street.
"Stop here, Harold."
"Here? Your building –"
"I know. Stop here."
Finch pulled over and Reese got out of the car. "You sure you'll be alright, John?"
"I'm fine, Harold. If anything –"
"Yes, John, I will. Get some rest…You can even take tomorrow off."
Reese raised an eyebrow. "A whole day, Harold?"
"I don't pay you to lounge around, Mr. Reese, I thought you knew that."
The two friends smiled at each other, then Reese watched as Harold slowly drove away. He had asked Finch to pull over several buildings away from his. Even though his body was screaming for sleep, he needed to walk for a few minutes, needed to feel the fresh air unencumbered before he stepped inside his loft.
The building next to his had been in the midst of being converted before the economic downturn and was in a state of suspended animation, occupied on one end, but deserted on the side that Reese slipped behind. There was a rickety looking open staircase on that end. Reese climbed it to the top – it was perfectly safe, he had carefully reinforced it himself, making sure that the repairs he'd made were undetectable from the rust and peeling paint – crossed the roof and then jumped across the narrow space between the two buildings.
He entered his building and moved undetected to his floor via the service elevator. As he retrieved his key from a hiding space in a janitorial closet and walked down the hall, he reflected that if he had been more careful about his movements last night - but then he put the thought away. Later, much, much later.
For the first time since Finch had given him the apartment, Reese truly appreciated the soaring open space. In the beginning he felt like a lab rat, on display round the clock. The first thing he had done was have motorized shades installed for the huge windows; later a separate bed had been put in the 'treehouse' space.
Over time he had gotten used to it. One of the things that he and Bear liked to do on those rare free afternoons after a long walk was stretch out on the bed in the main space and just lie there, enjoying the sun as it streamed through those windows. Bear would turn on his back, legs in the air and Reese would scratch his ears or his belly. Reese never fell asleep, but he would close his eyes and listen to Bear's happy snuffling.
Tonight he crossed the floor and stood in the middle of the space for a moment, then went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer, drinking it as he went into the bathroom.
As Reese undressed, he gave his body a cursory glance in the mirror. There were cuts, bruises and abrasions, of course.
He smiled grimly – hadn't all of his encounters with Kara ended up this way?
He could still see the outline of the bomb vest indenting his skin, but his white shirt wasn't as bloody as he thought it would be. Guess he didn't have time to bleed.***
Reese finished the beer and stepped into the shower, washing the last several days away.
He walked out dripping wet, smiling softly again as he imagined Harold's raised eyebrows at the splotches of water on the floor and crawled into bed.
XXX
For the first few hours, the practical part of his brain shut everything else down, focusing on rest and repair for his battered, exhausted body.
It was the darkness that woke him up. When Reese had gone to bed it was early evening and the lights in the buildings next to his were blazing. Now it was well after midnight and there were only a few lights burning, one right into the loft. Reese fumbled for the remote control that operated the shades, but then his eyes caught a tiny flash of red, near the windows.
Oddly comforted, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep. He had the dream again, but this time, it was so clear, so detailed, every moment as if it was happening now. Part of his brain wondered if his hands and feet were twitching, like Bear's paws did when he dreamed.
He and Joss had run it seemed like for hours over the old factory site where the kidnappers had kept the little girl. Finch had searched in vain for blueprints, a layout, something that might give them a hint as to where the little girl was, but the site had been closed down for decades so there was nothing electronic. The small town's old paper records had been stored in an annex that had burned down years ago. They had listened to Fusco's agonized scream of horror as the kidnappers' van careened off a bridge into deep water while in pursuit. It would be hours before the vehicle could be raised and any information on where the little girl was could be discovered.
Joss held up her hand, closed her eyes. Reese stood there silently, watching her. Suddenly she took off, mud splashing against her pant legs.
Stunned, Reese followed her. And then he heard it.
A faint sound of running water.
Muscles straining, the two of them managed to lift the grate over an old culvert that had taken all four kidnappers to move.
It had poured for several days and water was making its way into the old drainage system. The forecast was for more rain later on today and overnight. She would drown as the water rose, her body possibly not found for days, if ever, her tiny frame decimated by the ravages of nature.
They crouched down, stepped slowly into the tunnel. The water was rising. Reese called the little girl's name but there was silence. Joss held her hand up again and Reese was silent. She called out the little girl's name. There was a faint splashing sound. She was inside.
She shrank back when she saw Reese – it was men who had kidnapped her and taken her away from her family, men who were going to kill her even after the ransom had been paid – but then shyly held her hand out to Joss.
While Reese drove, Joss sat with the little girl in the back of the car, talking to her, gradually getting her trust. They stopped for food on the way and Joss displayed that perfect combination of firmness and caring when she told the little girl that she would have milk instead of soda and an apple instead of fries.
Finally the little girl slid into Joss' lap and put her arms around her neck, half asleep as she played with Joss' hair. Joss sang softly to her, her eyes occasionally meeting Reese's in the rear view mirror.
They had gotten there in time.
When they arrived at her parents' house, Joss' hair was askew and Reese pulled the red hair elastic free and then ran his finger along her temple, gently pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her face as he felt her soft skin. She covered his hand with her own for a moment and then they delivered the little girl to her overjoyed parents.
Over and over he had the dream. The things that really happened became paler and paler and faded away. Now it was just the things that didn't happen, the things between the two of them.
He could smell the faint scent of jasmine and baby oil, even with the mud crusting around Joss' pant legs.
He could see the way she looked questioningly at him, those big brown eyes that could say a world's worth with just one glance.
He could hear his sharp intake of breath, when she finally smiled, a shy sweet smile, a smile that he knew was for him alone.
He could feel the tremors in his own body when she covered his hand with hers.
And then finally, as he woke up, he could taste her lips, that beautiful full mouth, when he kissed her.
XXX
A thin ray of sunlight was poking through the clouds when Reese opened his eyes. It was barely dawn and he wanted to roll over, wanted to fall back asleep and go into the dream again, when he saw the light hit something red on his desk.
He got up, walked over. The red hair elastic was wrapped around the handle of a mug that held pens and pencils, a tiny bit of bright color among the blacks, browns and soft blues and greens in his loft. He could even see a strand of her hair clinging to the material.
He'd had it all along.
XXX
Reese made himself a cup of coffee sipping it slowly. He walked back into the bathroom and gathered his clothes and threw them away. He went to his closet, selected a new complete outfit to wear, the suit black as ink, the shirt white as a cloud, the shoes so shiny he could see his reflection in them. He showered again, shaved meticulously and dressed.
Before he left, he turned the mug on his desk around so that the handle was no longer visible.
He'd give the red hair elastic back to her when she came to his apartment.
*Oliver Hardy would say this to his comedy partner Stan Laurel in their movies.
**Sunset Boulevard (1950)
***I ain't got time to bleed." – Blain, Predator (1987)
A/N: I only noted a few characters' names. Reese and the other soldiers would only remember a few of them; most of their recollections would be "you know, the guy in…"
Apocalypse Now (1979), Braveheart (1995), Goodfellas (1990), White Heat (1949), Blade Runner (1982),
Citizen Kane (1939), Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982), Some Like It Hot (1959)
Next, we'll spend some time with Joss.