2025, January 8 – 06:47 – Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China

The roaring cheers were nearly deafening. Her limbs were heavy wearing the DriveSuit, and Greyson was absolutely exhausted, but she could last. It was a little under an hour since they succeeded — survived, really — the emergency run.

By the time she and Raleigh had led the group of staffers into the mess hall, there was already another wave of people there to meet them; two of which brought relief back to her. Herc called Raleigh's name, and Chuck pushed past the workers just as his father did.

When the Hansens got to the small clearing where the people had dispersed, Greyson threw her arms first around the father, careful not to budge his arm with the DriveSuit. Turning to her boyfriend, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him down to her, feverishly kissing his lips, still coming down from her Drift high.

After pulling away, Greyson kept her hands around his neck, swimming in his scent of ocean and motor oil. Her mind was still reeling over the night, over crossing off two kaiju and reconnecting with Raleigh in the Drift. Greyson felt like he had been projecting the ghost of their past between them but having faced death twice in six hours tends to make someone think about the things they had.

"I love you," she whispered to him over the roar of the Shatterdome, the most honest she had been in years.

His eyes seemed to shine from that. "I know," Chuck teased, pressing his lips to her forehead.

They both stayed in each other's embrace for a moment, until, that is, Herc began to speak. In a low voice, he said to Raleigh, "My kid'd never admit it, but he's grateful." Herc held out his good hand, and Raleigh took it. "We both are."

The doors swung open again, and Pentecost's voice soon followed, calling for the returned pilots. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, making a route for the Marshal to pass. Pentecost started, "In all my years of fighting, I've never—" A genuine smile shone on his face. "—seen anything like that. Well done." The Marshal spoke to them both, but his eyes lingered more on Greyson. "Proud of you," he finished.

She squeezed Chuck's hand, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. The lieutenant was beaming. Stacker Pentecost was proud. Of them both, sure, but also of her. It was… weird, the feeling of pride bubbling in her chest. Greyson was never as close to Stacker as she was to Herc, despite having known each other for a solid decade. But it didn't matter.

He was proud.

Focusing his attention to the rest of the Shatterdome, the Marshal continued loudly, "I'm proud of us all." The hangar bay remained quiet as he made his way forward, to speak to the souls before him. "But, as harsh as it sounds, there is no time to celebrate. We lost two crews. No time to grieve." Turning back around, he glanced at Raleigh and Greyson momentarily. "Reset that clock."

Everyone started to murmur around. The fleeting feeling of darkness dissipated. It was all business again. But then, Greyson's eye caught something. She raised her hand to her nose, signaling to the Marshal of a problem. His nose was bleeding again. He gave her a look. Pentecost pulled out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and applied pressure to his nose.

It was obvious now; he wasn't getting any better. "Reset the clock," the Marshal repeated.

As the Marshal made his way away from the scene, a confused Raleigh, with furrowed brows, looked at Greyson for answers. She shook her head in dismissal; she'd tell him later. There were more important things than what secrets Pentecost was hiding from the world.

Chuck reached for Greyson's hand again, pulling her attention away. "Hey," he started, brushing away some rogue hairs on her face. "Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?"

A broad grin spread across her lips, and she melted into him once more. She hummed against his mouth before saying, "No, but I sure would like to hear it more often."

The Hansens accompanied Raleigh and Greyson to the DriveSuit room. She and Herc made small talk while Chuck just watched, content, while the techs removed the suit from them. They were just about done when Link walked in, red in the face and eyes trained on the woman. Everyone seemed to gawk at him, but Greyson already had a inkling as to why he was furious.

"You've got some explaining to do," Link said, brows knitted together like an angry father's.

"Something we could do for you, doc?" Chuck dared, arms crossed over his chest. His head was cocked to the side, in both challenge and curiosity.

Link didn't give him a second glance, pointedly looking at the lieutenant. His brows only pushed closer together, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. "Med bay. Right now."

Greyson walked up to him calmly, lowering her voice. "Link, I feel fine—"

"Now, lieutenant," he firmly ordered. He moved aside, letting an irritated Greyson walk past him. Link looked at Herc, saying, "Sergeant, will you come with us please?"

Raleigh and Chuck both stirred from their blankness, throwing out questions and following the party of three down the corridor. Greyson turned to look at them, mouth open but ultimately silent, because this wasn't how she thought this would go. Herc pressed a hand to her back, pushing her forward even though he had a stoic look on his face, himself curious.

"Wait, guys, hold up—" Raleigh started.

Chuck questioned, "Sonny, what the fuck is going on?"

The both of them stopped in their tracks when Link threw a stern look over his shoulder. The message was clear: They were not wanted.

2025, January 8 – 07:16 – Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China

Greyson could clearly see that Herc Hansen was tense. Who wouldn't, honestly, in a situation where you were blindsided by huge news? She felt horrible for Link inadvertently putting him on the spot.

She fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater, grateful for some comfort. Despite not being able to stay and figure out why his girlfriend was suddenly demanded to the med bay, Chuck had dropped off her civvies to change into. Greyson knew she didn't deserve him. God, how was she going to tell him?

Herc was stiff and at-attention, standing beside Greyson's hospital cot. He had finally stopped pacing the room and scolding her. (There was a lot of "You knew you were pregnant, yet you still risked your life!" and "I can't believe how absolutely reckless you were" and "Don't give me that look" and "Kid, I'm glad you're okay, but I'm still mad.")

Scared half to death as Greyson was, she held the hem of her sweater with a death grip, enough that her hands began shaking; enough that Herc felt sympathetic and placed his calloused hands over hers.

Dr. Lincoln entered the exam room again, flipping through a chart and what appeared to be test results. The doctor shifted through a few more pages before looking up and giving the two of them his full attention. Greyson's stomach twisted into knots.

Herc snapped irritably at Link, "Well?"

"Should we be worried?" Greyson asked instead.

Link gave a small, reassuring smile. "The stress and trauma of the neural load — not to mention the combat — caused a threat, but thankfully, it's nothing serious. You and your baby are both fine."

That was the moment a singular weight lifted from Greyson's shoulders. Thank God. She saw Herc relax too. A breath had escaped his lips and his shoulders visibly slouched. The senior Hansen rubbed the back of his head. However, she still waited for the other shoe to drop.

"The bad news is," Link continued afterwards, sighing, "Sonny, I'm not going to allow you to partake in any activities that could aggravate your condition. You're not entirely out of the woods yet. I want to keep you under observation, just in case."

Greyson's eyes widened, brows raised in worry. "And your definition of these activities is…?"

"Absolutely no getting back into Gipsy Danger."

"You're fucking kidding," she let out in disbelief. "But — Link, once the Jaegers are good to go, Stacker would want them out immediately."

Link shook his head, tucking the chart under an arm. "Maybe," he began, "but unfortunately, you won't be piloting."

"You said I was fine!"

Herc jumped in, one good hand on his hip. Huh. So that's where Chuck got his many expressions from. The father pressed, "Sonny, you are not going to risk yours or your child's life."

What, are they really going to double-team her now? It was so unfair. It was her fault, but she finally had the chance to help. "Let me rest up," Greyson countered. "If there's another Breach, I can—"

"The fuck you can!" Herc's voice rose, thundering. She swallowed. "I am not letting you go anywhere near that Jaeger."

Link looked at her then, frowning. Concern was etched on his features, and it made him look older than he was. "Sonny, I don't think you're understanding me. If you pilot again, you could miscarry."

Greyson sighed, looking between Link and Herc. She withrew her stubbornness, asking, "Can we at least see what the Marshal—?"

"Herc is here under Pentecost's advisement." Stealing a glance in the Hansen's direction, the med bay doctor explained, "As you've noticed by now, both teams are missing half of their pilots. Mako's almost cleared, hopefully she can step up for the op. But it's either we do this safely, or not at all."

"Gottlieb hasn't been wrong yet." Greyson frowned, shaking her head. "What if we don't have a choice?"

"Let's hope he is wrong this time, Sonny, for all of our sakes." With that, he left them in the room.

Greyson's shoulders slumped, and she put her head in her hands. A sigh. She was beginning to get a migraine. Or maybe she was fighting away the tears that threatened to well up. She wasn't so sure anymore.

"What's wrong?" Herc's voice was softer now, smaller, like how you'd speak to a child. The Ranger stood in front of Greyson, bowing his head to stay in her line of sight.

Her answer was simple: "I fucked everything up."

"Hey. This is not your fault."

"Then why does it feel like it is?" she snapped at him, looking up. Her jaw set. "God, everything this week — nothing's gone like it was supposed to—"

"How were we supposed to know Mako would get hurt? Or that the science squint would Drift with a — damn, Drift with a fucking kaiju?" Herc said with reassurance, "We'll get through it. We always do."

They'd worked closely over the last handful of years, cultivated a bond not unlike Mako and Stacker's. She knew that he was trying to make her feel better, get her mind off of the elephant in the room. Still Greyson avoided his gaze, staring at the floor. Because in the end, he was still Chuck's father.

She exhaled a deep sigh, feeling a heaviness in her chest. Blinked away the tears. Greyson said slowly, "I haven't… Chuck doesn't know." It came out as a whisper. Her breath hitched, a lump forming in her throat. "I didn't know how — Herc, I-I couldn't, I—"

The Drift high was long gone and so was the adrenaline and thoughts were finally sinking in. Guilt. She was panicking now. "When Raleigh and I — we — fuck, we were in fucking space. I could've died, and Chuck wouldn't have—"

Greyson didn't know if it was the exhaustion or pregnancy-brain or something else, but she let the tears fall. She's heard about pilots crashing pretty hard after their first few drops, had barely seen it affect the Beckets when they first started off, and she did not like it at all.

Herc pulled her into him without hesitation, resting his chin at the top of her head. Greyson barely understood his words, talking about it being normal to crash, telling her that the best way to shake the feeling was to—

"Breathe, Sonny." A beat passed. He put a hand to the back of her head in comfort, but he wasn't prepared to be her shoulder to cry on. "Do you want me to get one of the boys?"

"Chuck. Please. I—" Greyson tried leveling her breathing, shaky still.

2025, January 8 – 07:50 – Hong Kong Shatterdome, Hong Kong, China

Chuck Hansen had stayed near the med bay, waiting for his girlfriend and his father. Thoughts were running through his head, assumptions as to what happened. Mostly, he was just slightly offended that Link wouldn't tell him what the hell was going on but let his dad know.

He had been a little cross, but confusion suddenly bubbled in him when Herc came out, alone. "Dad, what's—? Where's Sonny?"

"She asked for you," he informed. Herc looked at him, scanned his son's expression. "She dropped pretty fast. Frankly, I haven't seen it that bad since the Gage twins." Chuck got to his feet quickly; his father placed a hand on his shoulder before letting him go.

The door to the room was cracked open slightly, but he knocked anyway. "Hey, love? It's me," he said. Peeking his head around the door, Chuck finally saw her. Greyson's eyes were red from tears and her cheeks a little red too, but she smiled when their eyes met.

Greyson sniffed, "Hi."

He walked up to her silently, pulling her to his chest and kissing her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing contentedly. Greyson shifted and angled her head to look at him, and something in her look made his gut tighten, his face flush. "What is it?" Chuck whispered. She blinked a few times, eyes going across his face. He wondered what she looked for.

Chuck saw something in her eyes change; Greyson had a look on her that told him that whatever it was she was thinking, she had made a decision about it. The Filipina lieutenant asked, "Can we sleep for, like, a day?"

A small grin was on her face, but it had just dawned on Chuck that none of them had slept since waking up yesterday morning, and yes, yes sleep sounded just right.