aut_nihil | (no subject)

Pope doesn't go on as many missions as he once did. But he sees trouble brewing in the future, in the solo orders Carver was given, and he can't stomach staying behind when Carver might face the worst alone.

So he defies his own orders and he goes with Carver.

And things go sideways. They're outnumbered despite his best efforts and his warnings, and they're gathered up, hoods on their heads, arms tied behind their backs.

Carver's strong though. They're going to make it through this. He's going to get them through this.

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From:

aut_nihil

"No it should not," Pope agrees. "Or gold flakes."

That other godawful cinnamon liquor he has run across from time to time. "Alcohol has one purpose. It does it right or it doesn't do it at all."

From:

fortitudosalutis

"Amen to that," Carver murmurs, settling a little. He still feels sick but it's easier to talk like this, shoot the shit. To relax, ever so slightly, as Pope run his fingers through Carver's hair. "That's what vodka's for."

From:

aut_nihil

"Mmhmm," he agrees. "Vodka's the only thing I drink anymore."

Something clean and burning, no flavor except that. Crisp.

"We'll get out of here and we'll go drinking, Carver."

From:

fortitudosalutis

"You and me both," Carver murmurs. He'd drink beer because the others were, but he never liked it. His mom and his grandma were always drinking beer. "I'd like that, sir."

Get a drink, pretend this never happened.

From:

aut_nihil

"Stay with me, Carver. I'll get you out of this."

The worst is yet to come, he's sure. But if he can keep Carver strong throughout it they'll survive, because he knows he won't break. So all that's left is rescuing Carver.

From:

fortitudosalutis

"You always do," he agrees softly. Always. Pope could have written him off so many times before but hasn't. Didn't.

Carver presses close to him. Breathing out.

"Didn't think anyone was gonna come for me. But you did."

He wonders, secretly, if Pope regrets it.

From:

aut_nihil

And maybe in answer to that unasked question he grunts. "I'm always going to come for you, Carver. You're one of mine. No one gets to fuck you up but me."

From:

fortitudosalutis

It's a relief. It almost hurts. Carver takes a deep breath, then lets it go. Some of the tension bleeds from him, like excising a wound.

"You're worst than my drill sergeants," he murmurs. "Swear to God, sir."

He would do anything for this man. Anything Pope asked him to.

From:

aut_nihil

"Good. That's what I'm trying to be," he chuckles. His thumb strokes a slow circle over Carver's temple. "I'm here to keep you alive. They were only there to get you ready for me."

From:

fortitudosalutis

He presses into the touch wordlessly, eyes closed. Maybe he won't be able to sleep without dreaming, but he can rest like this. Curled into this man he trusts with more than his life. It almost doesn't feel like Pope fucked him. Like that happened in a strange dream, or a book that Carver read, and not to him. Not really.

"I'm yours, sir," he murmurs. It's not the first time he's said it. It won't be the last. "This is all I got now."

From:

aut_nihil

He breathes out slow, measuring each breath.

"Everything I'm doing is to get you out alive," he says softly. Carver, even more than himself. "I need you to remember that."

No matter how depraved the act is, it's to keep Carver alive. To get him out of this situation.

From:

fortitudosalutis

Carver's quiet for a long time. The thing is, Pope's never lied to him. Not once. He and Mancea were the only officers who never tried to sugarcoat things in the Valley. Not once. They told the truth and they took care of their people and sometimes they sent their boys and girls out to die. It's the way of it. And Carver doesn't want to die, not really, not like this.

It's going to hurt, he knows. Surviving always does.

Quietly, he curls his hand around Pope's knee. "They're gonna make you fuck me again," he says, very quietly. "Try and play us against each other. They gotta, right? It's the..."

He swallows, trying to focus on his training.

"The obvious angle."

From:

aut_nihil

"Yeah," Pope says on a sigh. "Yeah they will. Or they'll make you fuck me. But it changes nothing. You're mine and I'm yours and we're going to get through this. Everything they do to drive us apart will only make us stronger. You understand that?"

From:

fortitudosalutis

Carver nods his head against Pope, taking a shaky breath. He's hurt bad enough he won't be much use in a fight, not like this, not without time to heal and come back to himself. But if they were trying to break the two of them apart or get intel, the enemy failed. That's what matters, right?

"We're gonna survive," he agrees softly. "I'm with you, sir. I would've followed you back to the Valley."

From:

aut_nihil

Back to the Valley.

Back to the worst moments of their lives.

He hears that and it sticks in his chest. It's a loyalty he sometimes doubts he's fully earned.

"I'll get you out," he promises. "To the bar we're going to visit. To safety."

From:

fortitudosalutis

Carver sighs, settling a little. Maybe he could sleep. Just for a little bit. "I'll owe you a drink," he murmurs. "Vodka, not beer."

They'll get out. They'll survive. The commander said it, so it must be true.

From:

aut_nihil

"Top shelf," he tells him gruffly, to keep Carver going. He'd drink swill if it meant being free. "Best stuff you can afford."

He's listening for people coming in the hallway.

From:

fortitudosalutis

"Top self on an E-4 salary," Carver allows, because he's not quite broke but his bills eat up his paycheck more often than they don't, even with combat pay. He's not sure how his friends with spouses or kids do it.

He breathes out slow. Better to think about top shelf vodka than this place. He keeps his eyes closed and he almost sleep for a while.

Almost.

There are footsteps coming down the hall, though. And Carver just breathes out slow again. "Someone's coming," he murmurs.

From:

aut_nihil

Someone's coming.

He stays calm, stroking Carver's hair. "Fine. Top shelf and I'll buy," he grunts. And that might be the last casual thing he ever gets to say to Carver but at least it's a promise of better things.

From:

fortitudosalutis

"You're gonna spoil me, sir," Carver murmurs, squeezing Pope's knee. He doesn't flinch when the door clicks open. Just slows his breathing, readying himself.

From:

aut_nihil

"Fortitudo Salutis," he murmurs. Go away if you have to, he wills Carver. Do what it takes to survive because they're getting the fuck out of here.

He looks up at the intruders. "Bout damn time."

From:

fortitudosalutis

Carver keeps his breathing steady, but he doesn't move. Not even when the leader hums and sits on the edge of the bed, just out of kicking range. He has to know neither of them are armed.

"Kinda thought you'd skip out," the leader says after a while. "Ditch this one. No offense, I just don't think he's moving too fast right now."

Carver doesn't respond. Just keeps his breathing steady, and slow.

"We went a little rough on your boy," the leader allows. "I'll admit that. So, maybe we slow it down this time. That sound good to you, CO?"

From:

aut_nihil

"You're taking it easy on me," Pope drawls. "I have to wonder why. You think I'll talk if you're sweet to me?"

From:

fortitudosalutis

"Always worth a shot," the leader replies flippantly, though Carver thinks there might be an edge there. Like maybe that was the idea, but it isn't working so well. Try to divide them but they won't turn on each other. Carver holds onto Pope's knee and he's hurt but he won't flinch from the commander. Won't abandon him.

Pope won't abandon him, either. He promised.

Then the leader's hand settles on Carver's back and he goes very still. For a moment, he can barely breathe.

"Maybe we will be sweet to you today. Treat you right." The leader chuckles softly, trailing his fingers up Carver's spine. And Carver holds himself as still as he possibly can. Trying so hard not to breathe, not to exist. "Shhh, just be still. Good boy. Just be still. Why don't you get up there and make your boss feel good, hmm?"