(no subject)

[aut_nihil]

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.

Comments

[fortitudosalutis]

"When we come back," the leader muses, "one of you's gonna have a whole lot of fun with all my guys. The other gets to watch. You'll be picking, Pope."

The others laugh again. And then they're alone.

Carver holds very still. Barely breathing. "Sir?" he murmurs.

[aut_nihil]

He breathes out hard. He needs Carver healthy; Carver is the better fighter.

"How are you holding up, son?" He asks, stalking away from Carver, needing space even though he also needs an update, needs to know what he's working with.

[fortitudosalutis]

He bows his head and doesn't move. Just holds very still and fixes his gaze on the horizon line, barely breathing.

"I'll live," he replies softly. Then he clears his throat and forces himself to speak clearer. To articulate. "I'm hurt, but it's easier to move now. Are you - ?"

Carver hesitates.

"Are you okay, sir?"

[aut_nihil]

He's worrying Carver, he thinks, and makes himself turn to face him.

"I'm fine," he says, and he is. He wasn't brutalized like Carver was. "You didn't hurt me. You...you did good, son. You pulled it together."

He can't let them get to him. Can't let them win the way they think they can, by wearing them down one humiliation at a time.

[fortitudosalutis]

It’s what you have to say, isn’t it? That you’re fine? That it was nothing?

He shivers. Wonders if Pope hates him now. “I’ll take it when they come back. You don’t have to, sir.”

[aut_nihil]

Pope looks at him then, and shakes his head. "No, I'm taking it. I need you strong." He looks away, his gaze darker. "What good am I as a commander if I can't protect my people?"

[fortitudosalutis]

"You came for me," Carver replies quietly. "Everybody else would've left me for dead."

They both know it, he thinks. The higher echelon officers are all the same.

[aut_nihil]

"Well everybody else was wrong, Carver," he tells him. He still believes that, even after all this. Carver was worth coming after. "And we're going to make it out of this. I need you to stand down when they-"

Do what they do to him.

"No matter what."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver swallows hard. He meets Pope's eyes, though. "After," he says, very quietly. "After, we're gonna go drinking together."

There will be an after. There'll be something better.

"If I get fucked up -" Carver hesitates. "If I get really fucked up, can you call somebody for me? I'll do it for you, too."

[aut_nihil]

A soft grunt. "We're in it to the end now, son. We're going to celebrate when we get out."

It's grim to think of not getting out at all, let alone together, but he nods. "Who do you need me to call?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver's quiet for a long moment. It's not something he'd admit under different circumstances. But here, it is what it is. They might die. They might end up beaten so bad they don't know which way is up.

And, secretly, Carver wants to lie down next to someone. To trust that they won't hurt him so maybe he can rest, and heal.

"Sergeant Anders," he says, very quietly. Pope could make a thing of it, Carver knows. Even now.

[aut_nihil]

Sergeant Anders. Pope thinks about that, and about how skilled Carver was.

"You and him are...?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Don't flinch, Carver tells himself. Don't you dare flinch. He meets Pope's eyes and nods just once.

[aut_nihil]

Huh.

His skin crawls.

"I'll tell him if you can't make it out. But you're going to, Carver." And Carver will be done with Anders, by God. If he wants to continue in Pope's employ.

[fortitudosalutis]

There's not much to read in Pope's expression then. Just the ever present shine of his glasses. Carver holds himself very still, forcing himself not to fidget, to get up and pace. Pope hates that shit. And he could hurt himself worse by doing it, Carver knows. He needs to rest. They both do.

"Yes, sir," he agrees, quietly relieved that Pope doesn't ask for more. But he notes that Pope doesn't offer anyone else up that Carver could call for him; it's occurred to Carver more than once that the commander doesn't seem to have anyone, no family, no wife or girlfriend, nobody outside maybe Shaw who'd come and look after him if something happened. "You can take the shower, if you want."

[aut_nihil]

"Watch the door," he agrees, and he moves to the bathroom. Pauses there, because he's still not sure who he'd have Carver call.

"Tell Shaw. If I don't make it out--tell her it was worth it."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver pulls himself up gingerly and doesn't make a sound. Just positions himself by the door and breathes out slow. He's hurt still, but it's a little easier to breathe, to move with it. They're going to survive. If he says it enough times, maybe it'll become true.

"I will, sir," he promises. "You always looked after us. You made us strong."

[aut_nihil]

"Tell me the truth now," he says, turning to look at him. "Don't bullshit your answer just to make me happy. How hurt are you? You need another couple of days to recover?"

He'll give him those days. He'll find a way.

[fortitudosalutis]

"I -"

He starts to bullshit. To give the answer he'd give to another officer, who wouldn't care about it one way or another. He's seen people collapse of heatstroke during training and none of the officers gave a fuck; they just kept on yelling. A woman from a different unit died like that, Carver knows. He thinks about that sometimes, though he didn't know her.

But there's bullshit, and then there's the truth, and he knows which one Pope needs now.

"I can walk," he says after a moment. "I can fight for maybe a minute. But what they did -"

His jaw works. He exhales.

"It hurts, sir. A lot. I'm gonna be slow."

[aut_nihil]

He nods. Takes that in. "Then we bide our time. We get you strong. We wait for our moment. They're not going to kill us anytime soon."

Too much fun to make them suffer, and so far they're entertaining their captors so things haven't escalated.

"Figure out how to keep them interested without pushing us too much further, boy. You think on that. Let me know what you come up with."

[fortitudosalutis]

There are other concerns. They can drink water from the sink, but he hasn't seen any food in the room. Any clean clothes or medical supplies. If they're really locked in here, the enemy might be waiting for them to weaken the old fashioned way. Carver scrubs at his face, trying to think. To calculate the odds. They haven't been killed yet and the enemy kept their masks on the whole time; they don't want to be identified. Means there's still a game. Means there's a chance they get out alive.

"They wanted us to crack," Carver says after a while. "Turn on each other. That didn't work so now the leader's playing for pain."

Seeing whether one of them will crack watching the other get brutalized. It's an old tactic. He wishes he didn't understand it.

"He's a sadist," Carver adds, matter-of-factly. "He's getting off on it. The others are following his lead but I don't think they'd dare if he wasn't leading the change."

[aut_nihil]

"Way I see it is, we get him to get with us alone. That's the aim." They can kill him or use him as a hostage, either or. "We pretend to break. See what they do then."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver nods slowly. "I'm more his type," he says softly.

He's noticed certain things. Less about how the leader fucked him, which felt pretty much like all the others, but more about the shit he said. The tone he took. The things he implied.

"Maybe because I'm younger. Or not white." Carver works his jaw. Exhales. "I stop reacting to it, he's gonna wanna shock me out of it. Won't wanna let the others do it. He might try it with you, too. I don't know."

It was hard to focus in the middle. To think tactically.

[aut_nihil]

Yeah. Yeah he's noticed that too and it worries him. "I'm the commander. They know my rank, know who I am. We want them to think they've broken me. It'll take focus off you and give me a chance to give them misinformation."

[fortitudosalutis]

It's the smarter play. Carver still balks at it inside. The commander shouldn't be in the line of fire. But he promised to back Pope's play, didn't he?

He exhales. Okay.

"Where'd you want me to send him spinning?"