The Search

[Jay Carpenter]

Soon, Jared appeared in the HUD screen, a little dot inching closer. But Jay's eyes were fixed on the view behind. On a girl, her hair in the dirt, clothes torn and skin ashen. It would be alright once Jared was there. If he could sew up Jay's knee, he could wake Natalie.

Vanders did his work, whatever it was, and Jay's eyes flicked between the biometric readings on his mask screen to the girl emanating them. He held his breath, but her eyes remained closed.

She was no longer unconscious. She slept.

Jay exhaled.

"Thanks Vanders,"
he accepted the canteen but the gratitude was for far more.

The fire continued to engulf the building but at that point it was beyond saving.

"We need to move to a safe perimeter."




Edited by Jay Carpenter, Aug 30 2016, 08:52 PM.

[Jacques]

The fighting outside was intense, but short lived. Although numerous, the remaining forces loyal to the deceased Wallace-Johnson were little match for the better equipped and trained Legionnaires, and quickly found themselves flanked as more reinforcements, in the form of impromptu city militia led by the Freetown police forces, arrived at their rear, pinning the beleaguered loyalist troops against the walls of the embassies.

Hundreds surrendered, throwing down their arms in droves, especially as their calls for reinforcements from those forces still holding the city's landward perimeter, found themselves under assault by yet more Legion forces, a detachment of the Panhard mounted Legionnaires that had taken the artillery position.

With the surrendering of the remaining loyalist forces, a wealth of hardware was seized; vehicles both armoured and logistic in nature, weapons and ammunition, and more importantly, some officers seeking leniency gave up stockpiles of medical supplies and food that the soldiers had been stealing from refugees fleeing into the city over the past few weeks.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared collected himself, standing slowly. "I've no more magic juice. I'm going to put the helmet back on."


He finished off his canteen before doing so, and then headed with the rest of the crew to escape the building. One of the other men offered to help with carrying out Natalie, the rest would offer cover fire from enemy troops as they exited.

Having the helmet on revitalized Jared a bit. His body cooled off a bit, and he didn't feel quite so overheated now. Thankfully, it seemed there was little left to do. The enemies were starting to lay down their arms and surrender. It seemed as if it was over...for now.

[Natalie Grey]

He'd told her to leave, but Ekene hadn't done it. He'd found Laurene and Ayo, though, in the room Natalie shared with the other Red Cross workers, and he'd told them solemnly that it was important that they hid. The little girl, his best friend's sister, had made an anguished sound and threw her arms around his waist, hollowing Ekene's heart with guilt. Laurene had only rubbed her face wearily.

They'd escaped the building when wispy tendrils of smoke had begun to burn their nostrils. Sounds of the fighting echoed beyond; the stutter of firearms, the cries of men. Screams and shouting. If the soldiers made it through to the gardens and grounds where much of the camp sprawled, there was little could be done to defend them. Ayo cried. Ekene gripped her small hand tight, swollen with the importance of protecting her. Like it could somehow make amends for the things he had done. He thought of Jared Vanders, then, and pooled all his courage into the image of a man he could some day hope to be.

It felt like days passed in that hateful place. Ekene looked for Natalie and did not find her amongst the chaos. She'd promised to find him. Where was she?

And then it was over.

Hours later, Legionnaires once again walked the camp. More food and medical supplies filtered in with them, and the frenzy and fear turned to industrious order. No one was quite sure where the fire had come from, but much of the building's front had been lost before the flames had been beaten into control. Triage tents overflowed. People still sobbed. Sheets covered bodies. He tried not to look at those.

Relief left a pit of shock. For a long time Ekene sat with Ayo and Laurene, rooted to the spot, fear and adrenaline leaking out of him. Laurene hugged them both, her fingers brushing his forehead with a gentle rhythm. She kissed Ayo's head from time to time, humming words of comfort as they watched the camp move around them.

Early on he'd caught a frozen glimpse of Natalie, limp and unmoving, and feared her dead. The courage to find out for sure deserted him for now, but eventually he made to move, untangling himself slowly from Ayo. His broken hand ached abysmally where she'd gripped tight to him, but it had felt like just punishment at the time. Now it just made pained tears spring to his eyes.

"I'll be back,"
he told her, as Natalie had once told him. Jared Vanders' words were circling in his head, and the memory was a comfort. Seeking the same, he began to look for the man.

---

The girl stands by a stone balustrade. A warm wind ruffles her hair, tickling it over her shoulders and sending dark tendrils across her vision. Long white skirts ripple across her legs, wreathed in bands of colour. There is a weight stilling her hand, far heavier than the physical gold band imprisoning her finger, and her gaze yearns across an open vista. The sea is touched by night, the stars hung above like jewels. A man stands on the beach below, clung by shadows and strange smokey light.

She turns around to a hand outstretched. It stirs something in her. The smile that teases her lips is an unspeakable temptation, but her own hands are behind her back, gently gripping the wall. It is a ruse. The Pattern has already tangled and knotted, the two threads inseparable.

In the dream she sees only the hand. A soldier's hand. Calloused. Collared in black. These are dangerous hands, but it is not fear that she feels.

When she takes the hand, it grips around hers firmly, and pulls her in.

~*~
"Jai?"
The word tasted familiar, like something precious wrapped up tight in a piece of her own soul. The dream washed over her and faded, leaving a sense of incompleteness that ached in her chest. The panic of loss brought her round, like jerking to grasp fingers over a cliff-edge. She never realised she'd spoken aloud. Her gaze blinked up.

And he was there.

A little blurred around the edges, almost in double vision, but definitely there. As she fought to focus she wondered about telling him his eyes were the wrong colour, blinked the question away, confused, and tried to sit up.

Immediately regretted it.

Everything wavered, and she rocked on the edges of slipping back under. She didn't hurt, not like she should, but she was tired. Lead lined her bones. Her stomach a hollow cavern. The second time Natalie pushed herself up more slowly, and still found herself blind to everything but him. Surrounded by echoes. Desperate to capture something before it slipped away.

She bit back from saying something stupid. Wrenched her gaze away. Flecks of blood crusted her skin, but no obvious injuries. She was wreathed in a faded Methos t-shirt, and heaped under blankets. Memories trickled in as the bonds of reality tightened, but they ended abruptly. Gingerly she pressed a hand to the back of her head, but felt no pain - nor even tenderness. That couldn't be right. "What happened?"

[Jay Carpenter]

He saw Natalie to the hospital himself. The battle in the Embassy district was fast and hot, as battles tend to go. But this one was almost pathetic in how quickly the power armored Legionnaires gained control of the shoddy trained, albeit larger, force. At the end of it, Jay moved Natalie away from the fire. But by then the heat of the inferno boiled the Sierra Leone air extra hot, sweat rolled down his face despite the suit's cooling systems. Natalie's slumber was uneasy, restless, but her consciousness remained. Vanders had healed her injury. On one hand, it was nothing short of a miracle. On the other, seemed completely normal.

With his own experience being subjected to the mage's healing, Jay moved heaven and earth to ensure a meal waited for Natalie for when she woke. All he was able to acquire was a sandwich, cup of applesauce and a carton of milk. It wouldn't be enough, but the food would take the edge off when she woke long enough to track down more.

His gaze shifted from the tray of food to the cot where she slept it off. Beds were in short supply in the Embassy district hospital, a few blocks away from where the short-lived battle took place. A cot was luxury compared to the floor. He knew. He remembered waking up from surgery to not but a blanket for a bed. At least Shredder had been there for some comfort. Poor thing. Jay hoped the little buggar made it- probably out there somewhere right now stalking grasshoppers for its evening meal.

All the doctors had been too busy to look Natalie over when he brought her in. It took a nurse only a few minutes to see that she was healthy and unhurt, but asleep. It was usually a bad sign to sleep through a head injury, but the cut on her scalp was closed. Her vitals strong. There was nothing to do but wait.

So Jay waited.

Having been in charge of the assault, Jay hadn't anyone to immediately answer to among the Legion. No officer to ask permission to leave. He simply left. Not without warning anyone though. He told Vanders he was taking Natalie to the hospital. Told him to make contact if he was needed. But as far as the Legion went, they couldn't have stopped him short of arresting him. And while he still wore the power armored suit, it would have taken another equally dressed soldier to take him out. He was used to fighting his way out of places. But fighting to get in, to save someone, that was new. Luckily, it didn't come to that. Not yet.

So, he was there when she stirred. In a flash he moved from the stool that occupied him all these hours and knelt alongside the cot. Color returned to her face. Smudges of ash he'd missed when wiping her cheeks tinged her hairline. Angelic was the wrong word for Natalie asleep. As much as it would have been for Shredder curled up in his arm. Even asleep that kitten was fierce. Natalie was the same. Yet the first word she uttered whispered at a battle between vulnerability and ferocity that set his senses ablaze. He brushed the hair away from her temple, then scrubbed a hand through his own. Not sure if he should do more to comfort her. A swallow, and he laid his hand across hers.

"Yeah, it's me. You're going to be alright. Just need to sleep it off. Light knows I did."


He blinked as bloodied memories rose, mixing his days in Freetown into one long vision that spanned eons. Dirt and blood. Shadow blacker than night edging closer. Resignation. Regret.

It passed quickly, and his voice shifted slightly as he added the explanation.

"You were in a fire. Something exploded. You're in a hospital, but the nurses aren't too concerned."
Actually, they weren't concerned at all. Jay should have left once she was deemed out of danger. The Legion would be waiting, but he would answer for it later. The worst that could happen was dismissal from the Legion, cut off from anything resembling life as a soldier, and shipped back home. There were worse fates than churning earth and planting corn. It wasn't like they were going to execute him and string his head up from the nearest tree.

[Natalie Grey]

The terms of her contract ensured her protection, but she doubted that extended to watching over her bedside. The look she gave Jay was all curiousness and soft puzzlement; she'd barely taken a blink from his face these last few moments, except to notice his hand pressed over hers. The cupped warmth travelled tingles up the length of her arm, nestling heat in her chest. She moved, curling her hand around beneath his, fingertips brushing against his palm as they retreated, but only to recapture him before she slipped away entirely. She didn't hold his hand, just lazily entwined her fingers with the tips of his, but it was a purposefully reciprocal gesture.

Natalie was not shy. The intimacy did not embarrass her, nor the display of her own affection. "I dreamt of you, I think."
A smirk toyed the edges of her lips, blooming playful in her pale gaze. The tease sought a lost connection. Offered with stark honesty something she did not understand, but decided on instinct to share. It seemed an acceptable risk. She had hit her head.

"I remember the fire."
And even if she did not, older memories fuelled any blanks. The cruel heat, the choke of smoke, blackened lungs clawing desperately for air. The roar and crackle still haunted her dreams; sheets of red that burned closed lids and sometimes even now jerked her awake on bad nights. She could smell the acrid stench of smoke cloyed to her hair and clothes, but rejected the cold touch of fear it left in her.

Peripheral details finally began to seep in. He said they were in a hospital, and she took brief note of their surroundings. She hated hospitals; more still being a patient. But she absorbed it all quietly, considering the fact that he had brought her here, and not to the makeshift triage tents of the refugee camp. Yet she wasn't injured; at least, she didn't feel it, and even the older wounds had settled into the numbness of exhaustion. Natalie could see with her own eyes the strips of dried blood on her arms with no cuts beneath them, but carefully set aside the strangeness for now.

How much time had passed?

She should have asked about the embassy. Ekene and Ayo and Laurene. The legionnaires and auxiliaries who'd bartered their lives to protect the embassy walls just a few moments longer. The African woman who had been in the foyer with her, fleeing for her life. And a hundred other concerns. But her shoulders slumped even without the extra burden, and selfish as it was she wasn't ready to step back into a world where Azu died for his trust and faith, where children ripped holes in each other's flesh, and warlords battled with the lives of their people like bloody pawns.

Instead she said nothing.

The gift that slept when she needed it most awoke to his presence; or, at least, she felt the barrier keeping it from her melt away. If she relaxed into it now she knew it would embrace her gladly; that the light would sink into every pore and crevice, lulling her all the way into a deep oblivion. She didn't have the stamina to guide it, not even the smallest piece to comfort herself with. But right now she didn't need it. Even under the crush of fatigue, stomach cramped painfully around itself, she sought and found a kind of peace. Or perhaps it was both those things that slowed the gears in her mind long enough to finally accept it.

She teased him for being here, though she wasn't lying about the dream. The remnants tickled at her consciousness, only to dissipate when it drew her focus. It was trite to admit she felt more strongly than ever a familiarity, and such sentimental musings would never pass her cynical lips. But it didn't mean that, for now at least, in this bubble of a moment, she couldn't simply accept the wash of warmth it left in its wake. Even knowing she'd need to relinquish the cot to a more deserving cause didn't hasten her limbs to move, though she knew she'd have to make the effort soon. Her own pride, if nothing else, wouldn't allow her to accept the preferential treatment. Even if her body ached with the need to close her eyes again.

Until one concern in the deluge fought its way to the front of her thoughts. Her gaze narrowed, pieces of a puzzle slotting together into an inexplicable image. She didn't remember the explosion that had, apparently, rendered her unconscious, but she did recall the sharp sting of ripped flesh when the tile shards had rained down. She had no cuts now, nor even marks; she'd reflected on that numerous times since waking. But it wasn't her own wounds she thought of.

"Your leg."
A tinge of curious accusation wired tight with the same concern she'd felt upon learning he'd deployed to the front lines injured. Her tone was too flat to be a question. She didn't need the gift to tell her something had changed; he could hardly kneel like that with the solid cast encasing his lower leg. Such injuries didn't miraculously improve with bedrest.

[Jared Vanders]

It was over, and Jared was at camp. He sat outside, but in shade, hair still matted to his face. Next to him sat his canteen, emptied once again after refilling. Exhaustion was the main thing he felt now. A deep exhaustion that he couldn't sleep off yet. Soon he would sleep - and he would sleep long.

Everyone was tired, and Jared kept most of his exhaustion at bay, even though it was very clear he was tired, and more tired than most of those that partaken in the operation. He slowly stood and walked away, hoping to make his way to the mess tent for some food. He was still technically on call though.

Jared had removed his helmet earlier to splash some water on his face. His helmet was still slung at his side as he walked. Legionnaires nodded to him as he passed. Those who had seen the display of his power showed awe on their face as well a slight tinge of fear. He gave them an encouraging smile.

A small form caught Jared's eye, one he had recognized. The young boy Ekene who had found in in the basements before the operation. That seemed ages ago. Ekene was several yards in front of him. Jared offered him a smile and a wave as he continued to walk.

[Jay Carpenter]

He'd been told he was a woman's dream come true. Ok. So it was his mother that said it, not some hot chick in a bar, not that mom wasn't hot. She had been pretty in her day. Not that she was old. But yeah never mind.

But the admission as much from Natalie crimped a fresh smirk across his features, edging out concern. Even guilt. He had been elsewhere when she was left to fend for herself. The Legion had a contract from her family to protect her. A piece of paper orchestrated their meeting, and assigned Jay the task of ensuring her safety. But when it came to put up or shut up, he had been MIA. Storming compounds and rescuing their damsel in distress CEO - an idiot that walked into the compound to begin with. Walked in on his own two feet! What the hell did Jacques think was going to happen? Have a fucking baguette and an espresso with Wallace-Johnson, kiss cheeks and walk away as buddies? Damn Frenchman! Maybe he didn't deserve to lose a whole hand, or maybe he did, it wasn't up to Jay to judge, but following orders from Jacques was on his own hide. He decided to do as the Legion said. Go where the Legion went. And that decision carried him away from the refugees and Natalie. First, at the refinery, now at the Embassy.

If he hadn't gone in to look for civilians - for her - she'd be burnt alive now. The screams of one trapped in an inferno fed nightmares no man living deserved. It was a horror that knotted his guts to stone. He couldn't endure such torture. Not again.

Turned out, she was going to be alright. As much couldn't be said about the other two he'd found in nest of flames. The woman hadn't survived. The man dead by Jay's pistol.

As Vanders had promised. As the nurse suggested. Natalie was going to be alright. Sue him that he had to see it for himself. To talk to her. To look her in the eyes and know in his soul, a connection he could almost breathe in like a lingering scent on the air, one quickly fading.

He relaxed a little, as much as he could while still in full battle ready gear. His clothes were Legion assigned camouflage, and the exoskeleton of the power armor suit was clamped to his arms, hips, across his chest and down both legs. All his weapons were within arm's reach, although his primary rifle was propped nearby along with the helmet. It was a hell of a sight when he walked into the hospital, a girl limp in his arms. Nobody stopped him.

His expression changed when she brought up the leg. Yeah. How to explain that? Uh we have a wizard? It sounded crazy.

"It's a long story,"
he finally supplied.
"The same in how your cuts and head are whole again."
His jaw clenched, there was no way to explain without sounding like his sanity was on the fritz.

Her hand laid across his, fingers dancing tip to tip. He didn't want to stand up to show her. Didn't want to break the connection. But his eyes fell to their hands. Hers were smooth but not pampered. Feminine but tough. His seemed beastly by comparison. The pads of skin thick and scarred. An old burn mark marred his thumb pad from touching the barrel of a rifle hot from discharge during basic training.

Her hands may as well clutched his heart. Which was exactly why he let hers go.

He stood and showed her the leg, all patched up. Able to bend knee and everything. And he backed away, grinning, leaning on a sink mounted to the wall.

Finally he pointed at the tray of food. "I was dying of hunger when I went through it. I figured you would be too. We will have find more somewhere else. That was the best they had."



Edited by Jay Carpenter, Sep 8 2016, 02:12 PM.

[Natalie Grey]

Ekene slipped and darted through the busy camp, arm clutched to his chest as was now habitual to keep it from accidental bumps and jolts. Dark eyes searched the faces of the legionnaires, still a little shy of bringing attention to himself. Until he finally spotted the man he sought. For a moment his expression lightened with the hint of a smile, but it faded almost as soon as he got a good look at Jared.

He'd sought this particular legionnaire out because he'd wanted to pull safety around him like a blanket. Jared had been kind at a time Ekene's faith scraped the barrel, and though he had not yet taken the man's advice to face his demons head on, it had made a profound difference to his mentality. That support.

But the man looked dead on his feet, each footstep a burden. Ekene wavered over approaching him, uncertain of his reception -- old fears making him cautious. But then the man smiled and waved, and Ekene's inhibitions vanished. "Jared!"
He threaded his way closer, hurrying to catch up and match stride. "Are you okay?"
Alarm blanched his face. "Are you hurt?"

---

A long story? Natalie's lips pursed dissatisfaction with the evasion, replaced quickly by the burn of calculation. She watched intently as he demonstrated his unemcumbered leg, expression thoughtful. Then, after that moment's introspection, she flipped off the blankets and forced her own legs over the edge of the cot, testing the boundaries of her strength. Her muscles protested with the heavy weight of lethargy, and for a while she let her feet dangle, hands braced either side of her thighs. All the while thinking.

"Our house burned down when I was a teenager, with me in it."
Her gaze flicked up, checking for recognition, but he was American; she assumed -- hoped -- he knew nothing of her family's scandal. In any case, that wasn't why she told him. "I spent months recovering afterwards, so I'm grateful to escape the consequences this time. Though you're going to have to tell me who to thank."
A faint smirk touched her lips, accompanied by another more pointed glance in his direction upon the word who. Sly recognition of the detail he skirted. For a moment she wondered if it was him with the gift, but if he'd been able to mend his leg from the start he wouldn't have needed the cast.

Her hands braced, testing her weight before she finally slipped off the cot. The oversized t-shirt drooped half way down her thighs, which were still clad in her jeans. Blood caked the supple denim like rust, and dirt ground deep into the fibres. A large tear ripped across one knee, the skin beneath speckled with flaky blood. She was filthy, and felt it. Ash and grime itched her skin. She could taste it in the back of her throat still. No wonder he retreated to the other side of the room.

Once her limbs began to move the stiffness eased out, and she padded her way to the tray. He didn't ask why she'd been in the foyer rather than tucked somewhere safe behind the embassy walls. Thankfully. Because it seemed a foolish intention now, and such a spectacular failure; she'd been lucky -- more than lucky -- not to have burnt to a crisp. And it would have been due to her own stupidity, too. Her mother would be furious if she ever discovered that recklessness, but Natalie didn't regret it. Because it might have also actually worked.

Instead she had learned something of her limitations.

She considered the light's touch then, soft as feathers, and maddeningly close. She could probably light that flame now. But set the thought once again aside, for now. This time in favour of the pit gnawing out her stomach.

"If you're all healed up, how come you're still on babysitting duty?"
A tease wound her words playful, and not short on self-deprecation either; she hardly relished being the distressed damsel. As she spoke she picked up the cup of -- applesauce? -- twisting it round in her hands, investigating what it was, then abandoned it for the sandwich. She sat herself down on the stool, and offered half of it out. She remembered his excuse about the morphine and doubted he would admit to whether or not he'd eaten himself.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared smiled at Ekene and his concern - it was a big change for the boy from when he met him before. "I'm fine, just a little tired,"
he said, kneeling down so he was at the boy's level.

Ekene looked different than he had before, more confident perhaps. The fact that Ekene had approached him said a lot and Jared wondered what had changed in the boy's demeanor. Young Ekene had been through more than people twice his age should have experienced, and Jared was glad to see that Ekene was okay.

"You look well,"
Jared said. "And it is good to see you again. I was just going to get some food if you would like to join me."


Whether or not Ekene did go get food, Jared's words were sincere. It was good to see Ekene again. Jared was glad that he didn't number among the casualties.