Hello, all! Here we are once again with more of Hannah's misadventures with Phoenix, so thanks again for joining me. Shoutout to BrambleStar14 and Minaethiel's beta reading excellence-they keep me from looking too foolish.
Think I Might Know
Written by TunelessLyric
Weigh down on me
Stay 'til morning,
Weigh down,
Would you say I'm worthy?
-Bad Omens, 'Just Pretend'
Breakfast was subdued the next morning. Lacking Jason, Harper and Mike seemed to deflate their numbers to the point of the table feeling empty. It was uncomfortably quiet, even Aaron was unwilling to fill every silence with joking.
"Shaw's out of surgery," Phil announced, cradling his cup of coffee close to his chest. He looked like he'd had a very long night, even after Hannah left Mike in his care.
"Good to hear it," answered Lucas. He poked at his egg half-heartedly. "Time to drag the Boss away for a meal and a shower?"
Geist shook his head. "After training." His tone, as ever, left absolutely no room for argument.
Hannah just busied herself with her toast. Chewing without really tasting. That was good. He was on the mend. Be back in fighting form in a week at most. One less corpse she would need to carry.
"Baxter joining us after this?" Aaron tried not to look too hopeful.
For a moment, Phil stared into the depths of his coffee. Hannah began to think he hadn't heard the question. Then, "Should be."
And that satisfied the remaining team members enough to lapse into silence. Most were alone with their respective thoughts, though Hannah didn't miss the casual way Geist let his arm brush Aaron's as they kept eating. Seeing them like that, taking comfort in each other's barest touches, sent a pang of loneliness through her. She had to shove away the idea of Harper in the infirmary with Shaw.
She missed Dom. And Pascal and Theresa. And White.
It didn't knock the breath out of her lungs anymore, the grief. The missing them. But it still oozed into her bones when she least expected it.
"Everything okay, Hannah?"
Glancing up with a start, having nearly forgotten she was in the mess hall with the others, she met Phil's concerned gaze.
"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat. "Just thinking."
He didn't need anything else on top of his pile of problems. Least of all rehashing the same old story of her loss and fatigue. Not with the way he clung to his coffee, closing his eyes to enjoy each luxurious sip.
"All right, well, if you want to talk about anything, you know where to find me," he reminded her.
With a nod, she gathered her dishes. "I'll meet you guys in the gym."
Each murmured a quiet farewell as she headed out of the dreary mess hall.
Hannah didn't have the gym to herself. A squad of Innies gathered around the weights, laughing and joking loudly. Heart sinking at the realization that she wasn't going to get to dance until her teammates started showing their faces, she instead wrapped her hands and took up position at a punching bag.
She felt their gazes drift her direction, curiosity glimmering in their eyes. Not a lot of the people stationed here got to look very long at a real, live Phoenix. She hoped she was disappointing to watch. Tiny and sloppy as her emotions raged like a wild thing, she was far from an imposing killer. And never mind for the elite kill squad of the URF, she was disappointing for a UNSC Marine. It wasn't showing off for Harper, to prove she had earned her spot on his team. That she could best half of them in hand-to-hand.
It was an attempt to shut her brain off for a few blissful minutes.
Aaron and Lucas finally came in. They were laughing at last, good enough to fool the other Innies. But not Hannah. Even with Phil's assurance that Shaw was going to recover, they were all still on edge. Waiting for something to happen. She felt it, like straddling a powder keg and waiting for someone to strike the match.
The pair were followed by Mike. The sniper had heavy bags under his eyes and his shoulders slumped inward as he walked, studying his shoes. Between his silver hair and pale skin, he looked as if all the colour had been drained from him. But he tried to smile at the pair of redheads. Tried to smile at Hannah when he heard the impact of her fists on faux-leather.
The other squad took one look at the trio and began replacing their weights. They hurried up when Geist entered, Phil on his heels. The door slid shut, only six of them in the room.
That was all of them then.
The team second moved the group through a long cardio workout. Apparently he wanted to leave each to their thoughts. And take the edge off their nervous energy. While the half-dozen Phoenixes ran over the same couple of meters of treadmill track, Mike ducked out a few times. If Hannah had to guess, it was to pray to the porcelain god of hangovers. It unsettled her that he had been so drunk last night.
Even when they had gone out, when Aaron, Lucas, Shaw and Hannah had been feeling the consequences, Mike had been completely fine. Always in control. Always able to keep an eye on everyone else. But not last night. Last night he had given himself over to her, to Phil. Let them protect him and themselves. Had surrendered all control and responsibility.
It explained the outburst.
For her own part, Hannah just kept running. Even when her body thought there was nothing left to give, she forced her legs to keep moving. To lose herself in the sharp ache in her chest with each breath and every sore muscle that was slowly numbing. How easy it was to just run. To ignore everything else and allow the world to shrink to the next inhale, the next step. And the ones after. To forget everything that existed outside that.
"All right, that'll do for today," Phil called at last. "We'll take the afternoon off. Take some personal time if you need to. I'm going to drag Harper to the showers and try to get him to eat something."
Aaron slowed his treadmill to a walk for a few minutes, cooling down. "I'll go with you," he offered right away.
"Me, too. Wouldn't mind looking in on Shaw." Lucas half-raised his hand to draw attention.
Farther down the line, Geist nodded.
Hannah felt a lot of eyes on her all of a sudden. Truth was, she felt awkward going back to the infirmary. Harper had made it clear what he thought of her continued attachment and what it had done to Shaw so far. "I'm not sure," she said at last, as honest as she could have been about the muddled feelings she had.
"He's still completely out," added Phil, needling with that unflappable calm. "If that makes any difference."
Pushing a hand through his ruffled hair, Mike pinned her with a look. "I'd actually like to talk with you. The others can handle Harper themselves. We can have the room to ourselves. Then you can go if you want."
She realized they weren't going to let her off the hook. She was going, that had been decided. This was only the way they were going to talk her around to agreeing.
"All right, fine," she sighed. "I need a shower first."
True, she smelled like a year-old sweaty gym bag.
Aaron leaned in close and gave an experimental sniff. Wrinkling his nose, he complained, "Gross, Bliz." He yelped at Geist's pointed jab to his ribs. "An argument well-made, soap for all. Get thee gone." He shooed the assassin, eyes dancing.
With a parting poke to the pyro's side, Geist ended up leading the exodus from the gym. Hannah split off to the women's showers to have a moment to herself. To give the others enough time to pry Harper off of Shaw's side before she even thought about making her way across the base.
When she entered, the room was near-silent. Mike stood at the foot of Shaw's bed, watching the unconscious man thoughtfully. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps.
"Feeling better?" she asked. He looked better, hair combed and colour coming back to his face.
"A bit," he answered.
They stood there like that, him looking carefully at Shaw, and her hovering just inside the doorway. As she had yesterday, Hannah had the distinct feeling that she had intruded on a private moment. As she had yesterday, she wanted to go sit next to Shaw and see if his hand was warm.
"Seems a bit dumb to say you weren't supposed to see me like that last night."
She shrugged. "Not the first time I've spoken to a teammate about something like that."
He looked up, surprised.
"I was with Orange for a long time. Some of the others weren't." She shrugged again. "ODSTs have a lot of occupational hazards and all. Don't tend to have a long life expectancy. It never gets easier to handle, but you know that."
He nodded. Then sighed. After a moment's hesitation he said, "I just wanted to thank you for talking to me. And for bringing me to see Phil. Truth is, I used to drink to escape. It was hard to climb out of that hole before. It took all of them last time. And I know better than to let myself fall off the wagon. I don't know what-no, that's a lie, I know for a fact what would have happened if you hadn't stopped me last night."
"Don't worry about it," she said, feeling awkward. She liked Mike a lot. His steady presence made it a little easier to face the days her own grief weighed her down. It was just strange to be the one supporting him for a change. "Any of the others would have done the same."
His mouth quirked into a smile. "Listen to what you're saying. That means a lot, Hannah. That you know you're one of us."
"Harper said as much yesterday, sitting right there."
"He was right. You're a good Phoenix."
She watched Shaw's chest rise and fall to a certain, decided, rhythm. "I still messed up with him," she disagreed.
Mike touched her arm gently. "It can still be fixed."
They went back to silence as Hannah counted each calm breath, trying to match them with her own. Maybe she would be able to repair the damage done. Ever since seeing her song on his playlists, an idea had been slowly taking shape. The details were still hazy, but it was something. It was hopeful.
"I'll leave you two in peace for a bit. I'm satisfied," said Mike. Keen blue eyes dragged hers away from their unconscious teammate. "Hannah, I want you to know that your debt to me is paid. It was weeks ago. I think it was that day with Mars when you decided to be one of us. You don't owe me anything. Especially after last night."
And she smiled back at him, warmed by his kind words. "Thanks, Mike," she choked out.
Expression open, more at ease again, he nudged her toward Shaw on his way past.
Then it was only her and the sleeping Insurrectionist in the infirmary. Nowhere to run. No Harper to stop her from saying all of the things she felt building up on her tongue. So she dropped into the chair at his bedside and hesitated. Shutting off the nagging part of her mind, Hannah laced her fingers through Jason's.
Their hands were rough from years of combat and armour. Calluses rubbed together, his in all the same places as hers. Giving his hand a squeeze, she released a sigh that had stolen into her lungs unnoticed.
"I'm sorry for what I said to you that night at the campfire," she said softly, looking down at his closed eyes, fluttering with movement while he dreamed. "I was unfair to you. Hell, Jason, we don't even know each other. But I want to know you. I want to know you better than he knows you. I want to see where it leads with you. More than I ever wanted anything."
It all came out in a rush, impossible to stop once given voice. She lifted his hand. Pressed her lips to his fingertips.
Jason shifted, as if about to roll to face her. Still completely sedated, his head turned fractionally in her direction. A gentle sound murmured out of him.
"Harper said I woke up and spoke to you after the last op. I don't remember any of it." She took a deep breath. "I wish you could tell me what it was. What you said back."
"Don't," he said, more audible this time. Brows twitching into the hint of a frown, Jason mumbled, "Don't let me go, Starlight."
This time she kissed his palm. Holding it to her cheek, feeling the heat of him, she whispered back, "I won't."
She sat like that for the next ten minutes, until a knock on the door made her jump. Quickly laying Jason's arm back at his side, she looked around.
Mike's face poked through the barest gap in the doorway. "Mind if I have a few minutes with him before Ian gets back?"
"Go ahead." She stood, stretching her arms overhead. "I'm going to take a walk and think some things over."
"Don't be too long. Aaron wanted to have a shooting contest with you and Lucas. I think there was talk of extra dessert for the winner," he said.
They passed each other halfway between Shaw and the door. Hannah let the back of her hand brush Mike's as they did. Just a reminder that they weren't alone. It was enough for her. Enough for the sniper.
Her feet turned first in the direction of the nearly-empty cells. There was a conversation to be had down there before she laughed with her friends.
Where the infirmary was alive with the soft sub-aural hum of machinery and moving air, this hallway was still. Dead. Soundless. With the cameras pointing at each vacant holding cell, physically-present guards were unnecessary. Personnel could be here in less than thirty seconds if the need arose. It hadn't been the case since Hannah's arrival on-base.
She thought she might be the only person to come down here in a long time. She didn't want to ask Mark if he had any other visitors. Part of her didn't want to hear the crushing admission that his brother shunned him now that he had a new family, if that happened to be the case.
The elder Shaw rose from his seat on the floor when he heard her coming. Greeting her with a small smile, she could read the questions piling up in his eyes.
"Jason was wounded on the last op," she said gently, holding up a hand for silence. "He's going to be fine. We're just waiting for him to wake up now."
Blowing out a long sigh, Mark nodded. "Thanks for letting me know."
She sat, crossing her legs, just in front of the cell door. "I have something else to tell you," she said.
Hesitating, used to their talks being back to back, his brows lowered.
"I had a short chat with Harper yesterday. I don't think he fully realized what he was saying at the time, but this is good news." It was an effort to keep her face straight. To act for the cameras on them. As long as security wasn't looking too closely at her shining eyes, their game could play.
He tried to smother the flare of eagerness as he flattened a palm to the glass between them. "Tell me."
"Mark, Harper said he didn't have any more use for you. But he said I can have you," she whispered to the dead air.
His eyes widened, filtering the meaning of both declarations. The end and the potential.
"I don't know what to do yet, still working on that." She lifted a finger to brush the glass. Just a flash of contact before dropping her hand back into her lap.
"Keep me updated," Mark replied. "I'll try to be ready for anything."
She nodded. "It'll take time. Even once we have a plan, there's no guarantee it'll be quick."
A wry smile twisted his expression. "Does it look like I have a lot on my schedule?"
Hannah got back to her feet. "Take care. I'll see you again soon."
"See you, Starlight."
She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. This time, unlike the other times since he first called her that, the name didn't stick in her throat.
Continuing her walk, it took a good long while to eventually make her way to the range. Aaron and Lucas were already mid-contest, calling each other names and arguing over the patterns on their targets.
"Ready to see the tutorial, boys?" she asked, snagging a pistol from the weapons locker.
A matching pair of eyebrows lifted in unison as her teammates turned to face her.
"Bring it on, Bliz," invited Aaron, waving to the lane next to him. "Though you should be warned, Lucas and I are all warmed up."
The engineer scoffed. "What Paul means is that he's already seen my clinic. We don't need yours." But there wasn't any bite to his bark. Not when he leaned a little too casually on the lane divider as Hannah passed.
"You two are going to sing a very different song when you watch me eat a second helping of chocolate cake tonight," she laughed.
The three of them took up firing positions. They ran several magazines through the magnums, critiquing their spreads after each turn. And although anyone who walked in would have sworn the trash-talk flying was genuine, Hannah felt the warmth of happiness wash through her when they compared point totals in the end. She didn't care that Lucas had beaten her by the slimmest margin. Aaron's sore-loser act was just that, an act. All the pouting only made them laugh harder.
As they ate chocolate cake together that night, with Phil, Mike and Geist, Hannah relaxed into her chair. She scraped every last bit of icing off the plate. Licked the final trace of flavour from her fork, joking with all the rest of them. She felt the life at the table.
So when the door opened and Harper stepped through, Hannah didn't let her good mood falter.
But when Jason limped out from behind the team leader, it was all she could do not to shoot to her feet and run.