A/N: Right...this one is significantly shorter than last chapter...but the next chapter is going to be ridiculously long to make up for it...
Thank you to all the lovely reviewers, and the readers as well. I keep worrying about the dip in reviewers, but the number of readers hasn't dropped, so I guess things can't be going that bad...
A big thank you to Greg for beta-ing this chapter, I shot him rewrites last minute and he took it like a champ!
Read.
XI.
The sun hadn't yet risen, its low light still a smoky gray on the horizon, when Jimmy bummed a cigarette off one of the older fighters and ducked behind the community center to steal a few tokes before he spent his day looking for things to do. He knew he should probably inform Weaver that his assignment was a failure, but he couldn't find the nerve to do it.
The largest, most important task Weaver had ever trusted Jimmy with, and Jimmy fouled it up before he'd even had a chance to start it. He supposed he could find Matt and play a few games of chess, he sort of had a hunch he'd be spending the majority of his time that next week or so entertaining the younger kids. Maybe he could ask Anthony to throw him on the patrol roster; they were thin on fighters as it was, with ten of them scouting future camp sites and four risking their lives to case an alien base.
Jimmy fidgeted with his cigarette, touching it to his bottom lip and considering taking a long drawl as his mind wandered back to the night before and his conversation with Ben. He wondered how much Ben had honestly been telling him about Hal's opinions, he thought about Matt staring dolefully at the chessboard as his older brother opted to spend time with someone else rather than play one measly game with him, and for a moment Jimmy felt he couldn't breathe. He bit his cigarette's filter and dragged the smoke, crackling from the cherry tip, deep into his throat, scratching the whole way down to his lungs.
For several minutes, Jimmy stood in solitude, smoking his cigarette and watching as several other insomniacs in the community wandered around and prepped for the early morning to begin. That was where Ben found him. The other boy rounded the corner and fixed Jimmy with a harsh, reproving glare. Jimmy shot the smoke from his mouth into the open air and returned Ben's expression with an unimpressed one of his own.
"I thought you were going to stop that," Ben muttered, eying the cigarette disdainfully, and coming to stand at Jimmy's side, leaning a shoulder against the wall to watch the other boy. Jimmy took a long, spiteful hit off his cigarette and dispelled the smoke from the side of his mouth, leering at Ben through shaggy brown locks and sallow eyes.
"What made you think that?" Jimmy challenged, "I never said I would."
Ben sighed, and murmured, "Well, maybe I just wish you would."
"I can't help it," Jimmy replied smartly, "It's an addiction."
"Jimmy…" Ben began in a low growl, revving up for his usual preach about the health hazards of tobacco products, as though he were a walking medical pamphlet on the subject.
"Can I help you with something?" Jimmy interjected, it was just too fucking early to deal with Ben's holier-than-thou speeches, "Or are you really just here to bash on my smoke break? Because, seriously, Ben, the last fucking thing I need right now, in the middle of an alien invasion, is a lecture from honorary D.A.R.E. officer Ben Mason about how cigarettes are bad for me despite the fact that I am most likely not going to live long enough for any of the serious side-affects like lung cancer and emphysema to ever develop. So, yeah, shut up and if it bothers you so fucking much then go away."
Ben opened his mouth, closed it, then turned his face away and glared off into the horizon, muttering, "Well, good-morning to you too."
They fell into a tense silence, both gazing angrily opposite directions. Jimmy took a few hits from his cigarette; let the smoke billow out of his mouth in a slow, steady stream.
"I'm leaving in a little bit for recon," Ben murmured, "I just wanted to talk to you before we left."
Jimmy snorted softly but said nothing, raising the cigarette to his lip and letting it rest there a moment as he ran his hands over his arms, an attempt to knock away the chilly air that flitted over them.
"About last night…" Ben began.
Jimmy ripped the cigarette from his lip, his heart imploding in his chest, as he bit down hard on his inner cheek.
"What about last night?" he snapped. He turned a heated glare on the other boy, laid one arm over his stomach, and used it to prop the other up by the elbow which held his cigarette betwixt his middle and index finger. His body was tense and quivering. He had a dangerous glint in his eye and the sneer on his lip just dared Ben to finish that thought.
Ben faltered, turned away, and relented, "Fine. Nothing. Never mind."
A heavy hush fell over the boys, the kind that burdened the mind, and drowned out all other senses. Jimmy wasn't sure where Ben's thoughts were at that moment, but he knew where his wandered with a rise of bile to the back of his throat. He knew it was obnoxious to be upset about Ben's rapt dismissal of him last night, hell, he was more disgusted with himself for even making that offer in the first place.
'Do you want me to stay', it was such a stupid thing to ask. Jimmy cringed to just think about those words falling off his own brazen tongue. Ben had already decided he wasn't in the mood to do anything, and had been somewhat clear about it, and he had mentioned his plans to sleep which took talking out of the equation, so then what possible reason would Jimmy have for sticking around. Were they going to snuggle? Jimmy scoffed, jutted his chin out and took another long drawl from his cigarette, it tasted suddenly bitter as though he were breathing the tobacco smoke in for the first time.
"I guess I should get going then," Ben mumbled, he sounded distant.
Jimmy shuddered and gingerly caught the side of his inner cheek in between his teeth, grinding it absently. Ben sighed, shook his head, and relented.
"Right," he said, lifting himself from the wall and starting away, "I'll see you later."
"Wait," Jimmy called out, squeezing his eyes closed and hating himself for just a second. God, why did he have to sound so pathetic? Ben paused at the word, glancing curiously back.
Jimmy rest the cigarette in his mouth and, hands trembling noticeably though he excused it as the cold breeze lilting through the area, he removed the compass he always wore round his neck now when on patrols and missions. It was a loan from Captain Weaver, an attempt to deter any future dilemmas brought on by Jimmy's inability to navigate that were similar to the one after the warehouse which saw him wandering lost for two days the opposite direction of camp before the 2nd Mass, miraculously, found him. Without looking at Ben, Jimmy held it out expectantly. Ben perked a brow, walking back a few paces to take the offered item.
"What is this?" Ben wondered.
"It's a compass, Einstein, and here I thought you were supposed to be smart," Jimmy grumbled response. Ben rolled his eyes.
"I see that it's a compass. Why are you giving it to me?" Ben demanded haughtily. Jimmy shrugged, plucking the cigarette off his lip and letting the smoke seep lazily out of his mouth.
"I'm not giving it to you. I'm letting you use it," Jimmy sharply answered, wrapping his arms more securely around himself and explaining, "I can't be there to help you…so…I figure…this way I can…kind of…be useful…sort of…still. But you have to return it as soon as you get back and you have to be really careful with it. It's Weaver's."
"Weaver's?" Ben repeated, furrowing his brow, "Why do you have it?"
"He's letting me use it," Jimmy said, nonchalant.
"Oh," Ben mouthed then teased, "Because you can't tell north from south?"
Jimmy shook his head, irritated, holding his cigarette down near his thigh and flicking away the ash built up on its tip.
"Thanks, Jimmy," Ben murmured suddenly, his tone soft, tender, sounding almost breathless. He leaned in towards Jimmy with an obvious purpose, but before he could seal the revoltingly sentimental moment with a hasty yet sweet kiss, Jimmy quickly stuck the cigarette between his teeth and Ben jerked back, making a face.
Jimmy eyed Ben smugly around his cigarette, slowly sucking the smoke down his throat, the cigarette tip lighting bright red, noisily crackling as the paper and tobacco simmered and burned.
Ben sighed, smirking sardonically, "Cute. Real cute."
Jimmy shrugged, features dark and shadowed, as he pushed the smoke out of his lungs once more. Ben took a few steps backwards, glaring meaningfully at Jimmy and shaking his head, before turning and making his way towards the bikes where he would meet up with his brother and the rest of his unit. He glanced back to Jimmy over his shoulder a few times in his departure, holding the compass loosely to his body.
After a couple seconds, Jimmy wet his fingertips and used them to put out his cigarette, wincing at the bite of heat he could feel through his developing callouses, and then he tucked the unused half behind his ear for later. He decided he would grab some breakfast, attempt to choke down the oatmeal despite his knotting stomach threatening to be difficult then paused when he glanced the four approaching his direction.
Roman led the pack, the other three unharnessed teenagers trailing reluctantly behind and glancing anxiously around camp. Jimmy shoved his hands in his pockets and perked a brow at them. They stopped several feet away.
"We thought about it," Roman announced, his voice wasn't particularly loud but it was powerful, booming in Jimmy's chest, "We'll give you a chance, brat."
"A chance…for what?" Jimmy pressed, glaring at each of the four teens leering at him, and trying not to let show how incredibly nervous he felt. Douglas wasn't looking at him; his gaze off in the distance, Gia was darting little indecisive glances Jimmy's direction, and Kelsey –much like Roman– stared intently at Jimmy.
"We're going to let you train us," Roman said.
"What?" Jimmy stammered, "But I thought yesterday…?"
"We want to see what you have to show us," Gia spoke up, Roman tilted his chin down slightly, letting her take over a moment but keeping his copper eyes locked on Jimmy, as if searching his features for something, "If you've actually got anything worth teaching, we'll stick around. Otherwise…we won't."
"You got today," Roman declared.
Jimmy lowered his eyes, darted a glare off to the side and tensed his shoulders. He knew he should feel a sense of elation, Weaver had trusted him with the great responsibility of training the four and he hadn't looked forward to having to confess to the Captain that the four had decided they didn't want him to train them. However, Jimmy didn't like the tone of their voices, their condescension. He knew he wasn't the ideal teacher, but he would still be their teacher, and they needed to respect him as such.
"Who says the offer still stands?" Jimmy grit out through a clenched jaw.
Roman chuckled lightly, a smile curling across his stone-cold features. It almost made him look approachable, almost. Jimmy didn't like the reaction; it fluttered in his chest, knocking him somewhat off balance.
"You really think we're going to believe you've changed your mind since yesterday?" he questioned jeeringly, "I gotta admit, I'm a little surprised you haven't come begging us to change our minds and let you train us yet."
Jimmy shook his head, flustered, turning a hard, heated glare on the ground.
"Really?" he scoffed, "What makes you seriously think I would ever beg you for anything?"
"Because of your razorback," Roman answered plainly.
The slur jolted something electric through Jimmy's veins. He bristled, bit his inner cheek until the blood poured out, and waited for Roman to clarify, which the older boy did, but only after he seemed to have a moment of relishing in Jimmy's visible reaction.
"Weaver told you why he wants us trained, right? Bullshit obvious reason aside."
Jimmy nodded stiffly. The captain wanted more fighters, yes, but he'd also mentioned the hope that one or all of the four would display abilities that put them on par with Ben, which would allow them to be his backup or partners on the battlefield. Essentially, Jimmy noted glumly, he was training his replacements.
"Now…unless we saw wrong, you care about that razorback," Roman surmised easily.
"By the way: that compass exchange, 'I can't be there with you, so take this token of my heart', very touching. Let me guess, you were fresh out of handkerchiefs?" Douglas injected, his mocking tone cutting harsh through Jimmy's humility. Jimmy flinched, color flooding his cheeks, his hands balled into trembling fists, but he remained stoically silent.
"It probably rips you apart inside seeing him ride off into battle, all alone, no one able to stand at his side and watch out for him," Roman continued, unabated by his friend's interruption, "You are going to train us. You want to train us. Because you want us to go out there with him so that we can watch his back. Make his life a little less dangerous."
"That's only if you can keep up with him," Jimmy weakly muttered, his stomach flip-flopping every which direction. He thought to mention that he didn't actually want them out there with Ben, that he really wanted them to be able to take some of the more difficult missions off Ben's shoulders so that he could be out there with Ben, but decided against it. For whatever reason, he wanted those four teenagers to know as little about the true extent of how much he cared about Ben as possible. Of course, he also knew how stupid it would sound, as if Weaver would ever keep him on as Ben's partner in battle when better options were available.
"Oh I can keep up with him," Roman assured the younger boy, with an arrogant smile.
Jimmy locked eyes with the older boy, his heart thundering in his ears as he attempted to draw air into his lungs against the constriction in his chest. Was Roman really saying what Jimmy thought he was saying?
"Rome," Kelsey whispered warningly, placing a light hand on his arm, but Roman shrugged her off. Douglas shifted uncomfortably, shaking his head at the ground. Gia folded her arms over her stomach, took a subconscious step back.
"Wait…does that mean that…?" Jimmy carefully prompted, uncertain how to go about subtly asking: are you all super powered half-aliens?
Roman dropped his eyes to the ground a moment, as though considering the unasked question, then he peered up at Jimmy and smartly replied, "What do you think it means?"
Jimmy examined the four, their postures, and their sudden disinterest in meeting his eye. He wasn't sure how to quite read any of them yet but his gut was telling him they were definitely hiding something. Whether it was something Weaver could use, Jimmy didn't know, and he wasn't entirely sure how to go about finding out. He had a pretty good hunch where to start though.
"Fine. You're right. I've got reasons for wanting to train you," Jimmy said, fixing his gaze on Roman, his voice wavering ever so slightly, as he challenged, "But that doesn't mean you're the one calling shots."
"Never said I was," Roman grumbled.
"You sure as hell act like it," Jimmy muttered, then grimaced and took a step back, shaking his head as he told them, "You need this as much I do. You want to be out there fighting this war, but no one will teach you how to shoot a gun, let alone give you one to shoot. I'm not going to play your one day game. I'm giving you this choice. Either we help each other out, or you walk away."
"You're giving me a choice?" Roman challenged, perking a brow.
"Yes. I am," Jimmy replied steadily. He locked his gaze with the other boy and sneered, "Got a problem with it? Then walk away and spend the rest of the war as civilians."
Momentarily, the four exchanged looks, and for a few quiet seconds, it felt as though they were having a silent discussion about the offer. It made Jimmy feel a bit out of place.
"Alright, brat," Roman murmured, his cold eyes jerked back toward Jimmy, trailing over the younger boy's form almost appraisingly, before jumping up to meet shimmering blue. He smirked and decided, "We'll play it your way."
Jimmy nodded; again wondering where was his elation. Instead, he felt as though he'd just signed a deal with the devil, and one handsome bastard of a devil at that.
"So then, brat, should we get started or what?" Roman inquired, folding his arms over his chest and leering down his nose at Jimmy.
"I…uh…well…um…we should us…what?" Jimmy stammered, suddenly losing the strength that had fortified his counter-ultimatum moments before, and shrinking back into the self-conscious, scrawny little punk teenager that never should have been given such an important assignment.
"Great. He's going to teach us to be fighters?" Douglas griped, wistfully noting, "I hope we don't start with grenades. They might go off in our hands before he can say 'throw'."
Gia covered a smile at the jab, giving Douglas an exasperated look. Jimmy shook his head and rolled his eyes, his cheeks a little pink tinged – just from the cold, of course. These bastards were not getting to him.
"So then…I'm training you," he stated, just for clarification purposes.
"Give the little boy a gold star," Gia teased.
"You're the only one that'll teach us," Roman confirmed, "We're the only ones that can keep your razorback safe. This means, I guess, we've got ourselves a deal then."
"Okay," Jimmy mumbled, then tentatively nibbling his inner cheek, added, "One more thing though…if we're going to go through with this."
"What's that?" Roman wondered, smiling bemusedly.
"His name is Ben," Jimmy said flatly.
"No one said it wasn't," Roman returned.
"You're going to start calling him by his name," Jimmy seethed, "Or our deal is off."
"Razorback Ben, got it," Roman smirked, and Jimmy had to take a deep breath to cool his head, "Anything else, brat?"
"You're just going to keep calling me 'brat', aren't you?" Jimmy pressed.
"Yeah," Roman said, "You got a problem with that…brat?"
"Whatever," Jimmy muttered, pushing away from the wall and meandering towards the community center. After several paces, he paused, turned round to look expectantly at the four teenagers watching his retreat blankly, "Well? Are you guys coming or not?"
Begrudgingly, the group fell in step behind Jimmy as he led the way into the community center. He noticed that they were careful to keep their distance, a reminder that they hadn't yet accepted him. He scowled, that was fine. He hadn't accepted them yet either, and they had one hell of a long way to go before he would accept them walking with Ben.
.
.
.
A/N: Yay, so the 'Razorback Crew' (again, thank you IcicleLilly), are finally deciding to play ball. Their group needs a lot of fleshing out before their actions in these first scenes start to make any sense, but I will semi-address their usage of the 'razorback' slur towards Ben, because it's a bit confusing and won't make much sense until we see Ben and Rick interacting. Amongst the unharnessed, there is a kind of implied... hierarchy. They don't call him a 'razorback' for exactly the same reasons as others in camp, if anything, it's just to differentiate themselves from him. It'll become more evident as the story moves on, because you'll see, they don't call him 'razorback' to his face.
Just a little unimportant tidbit...
Right, let me know what you think please.
Reviewers: Facepalmer123, lol, see, and that's why I'm okay with being hated! :D. IcicleLilly, dang it, I kind of hoped no one would notice the Hal convo was the weakest point in the chapter...it was a good catch tho...sigh. Yeah, I'm kind of slow-playing the drama in the story a lot, because so much is about to start happening and I gotta build it all up. Sorry it's all going so slow, peeps. JDMlvr1, as you can see, he kind of did...thank you! CheckYourMetrics, so when I got your reviews for First Patrol, I was kind of stoked, because I thought I was the only one that cried during that story and, I mean, I biased, I wrote the damn thing, so my tears didn't exactly count. So, yeah, thank you for the reviews on that story, made me feel a little less alone in the world. Yes, stop procrastinating, there can never be enough Fanfiction in the world! I'm teasing, of course. Glad you found my story! Cookie97, I totally agree with your frustration. Of course, Ben is kind of more worried about his inability to not touch Jimmy and not the other way around...so...yeah...anyhow...
The scene from last chapter won't have any readily apparent affects on the boy's relationship until later. I'm sort of...taking what I built last story, and chipping away at it, creating these little cracks so that...yeah...we're testing the foundation of their love, so to speak.
Anyhow, got to go eat my breakfast, run to class. Man, it's starting to get cold outside. I think we might hit 60's today, its windy out. I realize some of you are probably covered in snow right now, so I will remind, I live in the desert. This is **COLD** to me. See you all Sunday!