After the island, several days of R&R, including some for the engineer working tirelessly to get the ship back up and running, they were back at it, sailing toward Costa Rica, with clean drinkable water and all the power they could want. It was a testament to how resilient the crew was that they were able to get back into the swing of things like nothing had ever gone wrong.
Tex sauntered into the gym, a smaller area with just enough equipment for several people to be in there at once, but not enough for about more than a half dozen people. There were several treadmills on one side and he saw the good doctor on one, running and sweating a bit through her shirt, "Hey, fancy meeting you here," He said.
The only place the doctor had really been interested in since he came on the ship it seemed was the lab and her stateroom.
"It's been a month since I've had any spare time to exercise," She replied, breathing a little heavier than she would like.
He grinned. "Other than sprinting away from the Russians in the arctic," He said, with a bit of a concealed smile. It didn't take long for it to appear when he looked at her face, "Yeah, I heard about that, pretty ballsy if do say so myself," He said, putting down his water and towel down before picking up some weights. She had powered down the treadmill and come down and he offered her a dumbbell, just to see if he could get her to stay there for a little longer. Getting her out of the lab was such a rare treat and he wanted to know more about her. What she liked and disliked. Anything.
She shook her head, "I think I'm done thanks," She told him.
He shrugged and went to his exercise, doing dumbbell curls like he had been doing them his entire life. She lingered, and he noticed.
He took a chance, "How come I never see you up in the wardroom? For meals?" He asked. He was curious why she was so closed off from everyone else.
She looked down at the ground and thought about how it was. How he had been alone for so long but now he was among so many. So many people who knew what she did. "Well," She said, taking a breath, "You might not have heard, but I'm not particularly well liked on this ship," She said, she tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but it crept in.
"Ha! I find that hard to believe," He told her, with a big grin on his face. He always believed in her. Believed the best in the crew and her. Believed that everything they had been through would bring them together. Unfortunately, for her that was not the case.
Through the labored breaths of her spent body, she sniffed. She wanted his version of events. "I had to," She thought about it for a moment, wondering if she should really tell the only person who seemed to believe in her other than Chandler this. But hell, he would probably find out anyway. "Lie to them all for four months while we were in the arctic. The world was crumbling. Their families were dying. I knew it and I wasn't allowed to breathe a word of it," She said and she looked at him, ready for him to give up on her too. It was big leaving that much out for everyone.
But instead, he stopped what he was doing and looked at her, "I think you underestimate people's capacity for forgiveness," He said. And she thought, what a man. He didn't judge her even a little bit in that moment, but instead saw right through her. "Maybe you just find it too hard to forgive yourself. It's not all on you, you know?"
The moment was over though, "isn't it?" She asked.
He simply shook his head. "No,"
She couldn't find anything else to say to that and when she looked at him and thought, it could be all over for her. She could stop everything in the world and just stay here with him in this moment, but she didn't have the words.
Under her stare, it felt like a thousand hours. And he would stay there for a thousand more if he could, but she ran off. Scared of the feelings. He knew that move too well. He went back to doing his curls, but not before making sure she knew that she should come and get a meal in the wardroom with the rest of them and that she would have at least one ally.
Nicaragua was interesting. It had been the best option after Costa Rica, considering their options and since they were going so far inland, she needed to be there. This came with a lot of grumpiness from the captain and Slattery who seemed just as pleased to feel her insistence on this, but she didn't budge.
Tex, on the other hand was only too happy to have the doctor come out into the wild for once. He wanted to see her in action, see if she really was the stuck up princess all these guys seemed to think she was and he never saw. Maybe it was the rose colored glasses, but he didn't think so. He thought they all got a little too caught up in the emotion swell of knowing the whole world was dying and she knew before any of them did. And it was her that brought that all to a head.
Riding up the river, they were in the same boat. Captain Chandler insistence on scouting the area of course ruffled Dr. Scott's feathers and he kept his grin to himself, lest she come bearing down on him too. And she could, that fire in her was deep and the coals were burning.
While the captain and several others were out scouting, they were left in the boats with a few others, but mostly it seemed like the captain was aware that he would be highly protective. At least, knowing how important she was to the mission and not maybe so aware of what his feelings for Rachel might be. He shot her a generous look and while it didn't calm her down, she didn't express any further fight on the matter.
The wait was agonizing and he had had a thought that had been itching at the back of his mind. "Hey doc, you got a fella?" He asked. His voice was jovial, but his emotions were mixed. She deserved someone, but of course, it was better for him if her answer was different.
She did not even do him a glance, peering through binoculars, looking for monkeys or Chandler, he wasn't exactly sure. "Last I heard, he was in Beijing, but that was months ago now," She told him. There was a mixture of relief and disappointment. "He was a journalist. Travels a lot. And you?"
"Oh," He blushed, "I'm a bit of a rolling stone as you might imagine," He said with a smile. The whole thing with Gitmo was enough for other people to understand that he was not usually to be tied down, but that didn't stop the doc.
She looked back and they were looking at each other again. "A man your age? Never married?" The easy way she looked him up and down and then turned back to her work of looking for whatever she was looking for it was magical.
"A man my age?" He chuckled. She had a sense of humor and she was ruthless about it for sure. She was not going to make it easy for him to just make it through the cool guy act. No, he was going to have justify it all.
She grinned. "Hit a soft spot did I?" She asked.
He shook his head and grinned, looking back out across the water. "Oh, I'm 2% body fat honey. Ain't no soft spot to hit," He told her.
"Except for that two percent," She said under her breath.
He laughed. "She is a smart one isn't she?" He asked Burke. There was a real sense of comradry and they were laughing at her jokes too. He didn't care that he was the butt of that joke, if it got her to loosen up around people and know that she wasn't alone. Her look of pride at him saying she was a smart one did not go unnoticed by him.
Rachel suspected that he had made himself a willing target and she loved it. She could feel people loosening up around her. And she thought back to their gym conversation. Maybe he was right about all of it. She should be more present with the others, give them a chance to know her. Give herself a chance to know them. They were all on this ship together, and probably would be for awhile longer. It might be good to know.
There was some more quiet and while it seemed the Captain was going to be a bit longer, he pulled a cigar out of his pocket. Offered one to Burke, compliments of the Gitmo situation, but he would wait and then it was Rachel sounding the alarm as she saw the boys start to flash out of the stream.
"We've got trouble," She said.
Chandler was quick to come over to her. "You are out of here. Back to the James! I cannot risk you going upriver. It's not open for debate, ``he said this all in one breath as he climbed into the other boat. "We will bring you an assortment of monkeys, you're just going to have to make do," He told her in no uncertain terms.
As the people started coming out of the reserve, she saw his concern. The virus. Tex was on the gun. He would do anything to keep her safe and he knew the captain would rely on that.
After a thorough decontamination, Rachel was thoroughly grilled on what the plans for the captain and the other members of vulture team were and what the plan might now be. For as much as they all trusted the Captain, it was hard when they hadn't discussed a backup plan. This was the backup plan and it had been compromised. Whenever Rachel asked or gave a suggestion, Garnett seemed to shoot her down, not harshly, just critcally. She had a protocol in place and it wasn't on her authority to question it right now.
Rachel left feeling defeated by the whole thing. The monkeys were the next step before human trials. And human trials would not be an easy start to this. If she had to do this with the humans that she had, it would not be easy.
They hated her now, she could only imagine what would happen if she had to start experimenting on them, seeing them watch, inevitably, some of their fellow shipmates die. It would be a disaster waiting to happen. Probably a bloodbath.
Stewing in all these thoughts was probably not good for her sanity, she thought and looked at the time. It was an appropriate dinnertime and she had thought about what Tex had said. What the hell. The Wardroom, it would be. She tried to come in as relaxed as she could, slouching her shoulders, attempting to unwind some of the energy that was so tightly bound.
As she walked in, she saw there was no one around but Tex and laughed inside, of course. Her first attempt to show that she could be among the people and it was still only him. A sign from the universe? She didn't really believe in signs but it was hard to see this as anything but. And for all it was worth, it was good to see him.
He practically jumped out of his chair when she showed up, "I was hoping you'd show up. You're a little late to the party," He said, trying not to make a show of acting surprised. But he pushed the plate, "What's mine is yours," He said, humbly. "The fish is good. Freshly caught this morning, or so I'm told."
"Team's not back yet," She said, trying to make conversation with him that wasn't about the lab. It was hard to make small talk when it wasn't about the mission, and here it was, about the mission.
He nodded, "Heard as much," He told her.
"No flares either." She complained as she sat down, "It'll be dark soon,"
"Yeah, they're probably all sitting around a cozy campfire, telling ghost stories, roasting marshmallows," He said and brought his mug up, almost in a cheers position. She started eating and he was glad for it. She probably didn't eat enough, always in that lab of hers, thinking too much.
It was quiet for a moment as she took a few bites.
"What you saw in Guantanamo Bay, it's some of the worst of human nature," She started. He agreed with that nodded, "And yet somehow you still managed to find the humor," She smiled a little, biting one of the green beans that he'd left behind, which had a delightful crunch to them. It was actually pretty admirable when she thought about it. Keeping your humanity like that when you were surrounded by the pits of it.
He looked down at the table for a minute and then back to her eyes. "Secret source of humor," He said, "Is not joy but sorrow. Ain't no humor in heaven," He said.
She was not religious, but she wasn't quite sure that she agreed with that notion, still the one before it, that made more sense.
"A guy named Twain, said that. More or less," He finished.
Well, finished being serious for the moment. They were having a real conversation. One that wasn't about work. And was about the past, a past which revealed something about each of them. How she felt she couldn't have humor in such a serious situation and why he could. And why it was not shocking in the least why he, out of everyone, saw her without judgment.
"You ever read Huck Finn, Tom Sawyer? American Classics." He said, the goofy grin spread over his face again.
And instead of just saying yes, "Everyone is a moon who has a dark side, which he never shows to anybody," She rattled off. "Yes, I know Twain,"
"Well, then," He said, on the softer side, "We have something in common." He didn't say that they would have always had something in common, even if she hadn't known Twain.
They would have both seen horrible situations and signed up for them. He didn't say that they were both at the end of the world just trying to make it work. He didn't say that they were two civilians on the last ship at the end of the world. He didn't say that they had much more in common that other people would ever think possible. People would look at them as the odd couple forever and always, but they were more alike than people ever saw. He didn't say any of that, just let their eyes gaze into each other for awhile till she was the one who broke the silence when she picked up at that green bean.
"Marshmallows, huh?"
He nodded. "No doubt,"
It was the sincerity that got her. She didn't think among other people, she'd seen him have a sincere and relaxed moment. It made her think that the big jovial personality, while some of it would never be an act, more of it than he let on was. She appreciated that he felt like he could bring that down when he was with her. She never asked him to. He simply did. She felt the red creeping up when he was quiet and had knocked the silence out between them. He didn't seem to mind that either.
Several hours later, he was watching Gilligan's island in the officer's recreation room with Rachel. He had convinced her not to go look at her machines or do mindless research about the stuff that she already knew so much about.
When she acquiesced, they sat down and he found some classic tv that had been loaded somewhere, by who, he didn't care, all that cared about was that it was easy enough to get into and that Rachel seemed to be just as into it.
They talked for the first few episodes, till the quiet seemed more comfortable and easy. Every once in awhile, one of them would have a talking point about the show, but they were just there. Comfortable in each other's presence. It was more than enough.
He looked over, ready to tell her something funny, when he noticed that she was asleep on the couch, the blanket halfway pulled down.
"You're not getting much sleep are you," He said to her, knowing she couldn't answer in her sleep. He pulled the blanket up, swiped the hair out of her face, and kissed her forehead. He looked at her like that for a moment, peaceful and undisturbed by the outside world. She was so haunted by everything when she was awake, that asleep, she looked so different.
He was barely done with that and pulling the blanket over her feet, when she awoke with a start. A panic attack? Night terrors?
"It's okay," He said, and pulled his hands back, showing her who he was, "Just me. Everything's okay," He cajoled in a soothing voice, trying to bring her back.
Her breath came out heavy and she looked around the room, "Something's happened," She whispered as she looked to him. When he told her that no, nothing had happened, she shook her head, "No, I know it," She insisted.
He put his hand on her leg. "No. We saw the flare a couple of hours ago. It was green. Green's good," He said, trying to remind her of the facts. It was often easier this way to ground people in the reality of reality instead of whatever hell they were in he had learned. It gave them a way to remember that everything around them was less awful than it seemed in their head. "Trust me," He whispered back to her, "It's just a dream."
She nodded and slumped back into the couch. She couldn't believe that she had got so worked up, but she believed her feeling. Something was wrong.
"Come on," He said as he gave her his hand, "We should get you to your stateroom. You should get some more sleep," He told her.
She chuckled. "I don't think I could sleep anymore right now," She told him.
He shook his head, "Come on. You need to sleep. I can tell you haven't been sleeping that much from the way that you conked out during your favorite show, Doc," He told her, being more insistent.
She rolled her eyes, and took his hand, "Alright," She relented, "but I need you to do something for me," She told him, before she allowed him to take her back to the staterooms.
His eyebrow quirked, "What's on the menu?" He asked.
"Will you come in and read with me?"
He gladly accepted that task and took her back to her stateroom, where he followed her in, glad that there was no one around to see this. He was not ashamed, but he didn't need anyone giving him shit. And he was especially glad that Danny was on the mission. He would have more than a couple of words, but it was okay right now.
She blushed when she realized that it would probably be more comfortable to change if she was going to sleep, "Can you turn around for a moment?" She asked him in a quiet voice.
"I didn't take you for modesty," He laughed a little, but still he turned around. He didn't want to do anything to get asked to leave.
She tapped him on the shoulder, she was in some shorts and a tanktop, "I'm not usually," She said, with a bit of a smile, "I just don't usually have men in my bedroom," She told him and got into the bed, covering her body up.
That didn't mean that he didn't get a look at it. He liked her lithe and well toned legs and she had strong arms. She was stronger than she let on and he liked that. She didn't hide it, but she didn't make it known.
He looked at her selection of books and nodded. She had an interesting mix of contemporary books and classics. He was sure she no doubt had someplace where she kept her research books. Probably a computer with some crazy storage. He picked up a book that he thought looked interesting and sat down next to her on the bed, "Is this okay?" He asked and he nodded. He opened the book up to the first page and started. "First the color. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try…" His voice trailed into the book, a book she hadn't been expecting him to pick, but one that she was glad to hear. She shut her eyes and let the sound of his voice carry her to sleep, curling into his big protective frame.
After about ten minutes, he could hear her gentle snore but he didn't dare stop reading the book aloud. That would mean putting the book down and leaving. And there was nowhere that he wanted to be more than here.