(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]

Carver holds very still. Barely breathing.

"Yeah. Yes, sir," he murmurs. Eyes on the wall. "I got caught. It's my fault you're here."

[aut_nihil]

"I saw the brief. I knew what was going to happen, sending you out alone." He frowns at the wall. "I couldn't abide that. I came, I chose to come. I have no regrets and I don't want you to have them either."

[fortitudosalutis]

It has to be someone's fault, doesn't it? Carver curls tighter into himself, fighting the urge to bite his hands.

"If I were better -" He twitches. "If I were better, none of this shit would've happened. Natural consequences. It's just what happens."

[aut_nihil]

"There was an 85% chance of getting captured in this mission. You were sent in because you had a better chance of surviving until rescue. I came along to make damn sure that rescue comes. Senator McKendrick can kiss my ass if he thinks I'm going to leave one of you out to dry."

[fortitudosalutis]

That high? He hadn't known that. What would it have mattered? Carver shivers, curling tighter into himself. Lifting his hands to shield his head without thinking.

"I'm sorry, sir," he whispers. "I really tried."

[aut_nihil]

"You were sent because you could survive," he says. "Austin was second pick. His chances of making it out though..."

Austin is great in chaos. In a situation like this, though? He'd have failed. He'd be dead now.

"I'm just sorry any of this is happening at all, Brandon. I need you, all right?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver closes his eyes, shivering. Could Austin have survived this? Taken it for hours with no end? Maybe. Maybe not. But he would've been utterly alone and it's doubtful the enemy would've bothered to ransom him. They would've raped him until they got bored and then probably just shot him in the head and buried him in some nowhere place.

"I want to go home, sir," he murmurs, biting at his hands. "It'll be fine once we're home."

[aut_nihil]

"Hey, hey, hey," Pope comes to him, behind him, cradles him. "Breathe, soldier. Pull it together. We're going to get out of here. Breathe with me, all right?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Oh, God. Carver flinches before he can stop himself, taking a ragged breath. But Pope doesn't yell at him for it, just holds him like a child. Carver keeps his eyes closed tight, breath hitching. Biting back tears because he refuses to cry now, when nothing's even happening.

He holds tight to Pope's arms. He can't manage words.

[aut_nihil]

Don't you make a liar of me, he thinks, but without teeth. With nothing but fear. He has so much faith in Carver.

"Breathe in," he orders. "Nice and slow. Calm down for me. I'm going to get you out of this."

God willing their captors will never see this moment.

[fortitudosalutis]

It hurts to breathe. Carver shudders hard, clinging to Pope's arms. His hands ache. He wants to die. But he focuses on the commander's voice, the words there.

Moment by moment, beat by beat, his breathing slows down.

[aut_nihil]

He murmurs to him over and over, keeps his breathing even and calm, and feels Carver relax.

"That's it," he says finally. "You all right?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver shudders hard. He has to be okay. That's the only acceptable answer. But his throat is so tight he can barely breathe. He gives Pope a single, jerky nod.

[aut_nihil]

"Up. Up, son. Move around. Shake it off. Come on," he urges him up onto his feet.

[fortitudosalutis]

It hurts to move, to breathe. Carver's breath hitches but he does what he's told, standing up stiffly. It's a kindness, he knows. Pope usually hates it when he paces. And it hurts to move but maybe he needs to, maybe Pope just knew it deep down.

He gets up. And he starts to pace, back and forth, back and forth. Away from his racing thoughts.

[aut_nihil]

Pope hates this. He hates it when he needs to move so he never does it for more than a few seconds, and he wants to snap at Carver to stop it, to be still and calm the fuck down already.

But he doesn't. Let the kid move. Let him try to shake it all off. It's not like they have anywhere to go to burn off steam. So he sits and he watches.

"Talk it out," he says. "Purge it all out before they come back, you hear me?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver takes a shuddering breath, grasping at his head. He can't stop. Has to move or he's going to bust out of his own skin. It hurts to exist. He paces in tighter and tighter circles, desperate to move. He barely hears Pope except for the order.

Purge it. Get rid of it.

He paces for a long time. And then, finally, he goes still. Exhausted and swaying on his feet.

[aut_nihil]

Pope is sitting in the chair by the desk at that point, just watching, worrying.

"Come here, son." He motions Carver over. "Come kneel here."

[fortitudosalutis]

There's no hesitation. Carver just goes to him, dropping to his knees before Pope. Head bowed, exhausted. Hurting.

[aut_nihil]

He strokes Carver's hair and just holds him that way, Carver's head against his lap. "You back with me, kid?"

[fortitudosalutis]

He doesn't fight it. Just closes his eyes and sags against Pope, almost absurdly grateful for the way that Pope touches his hair. "Yes, sir," he murmurs.

[aut_nihil]

"Let it out." They can't afford to break in front of their captors but maybe he can allow Carver this space to fracture. Maybe he can keep him strong, keep him in one piece.

"We're getting out of here."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver grinds his forehead against Pope's knee, clinging to him. Not crying, but he shudders. "It hurts, sir," he whispers.

[aut_nihil]

He failed him. He failed Carver in so many ways.

"I know. I know it does. That's why I'm going to take it from here on out. You just focus on resting and getting strong. Get ready to help me fight our way out."

[fortitudosalutis]

He hooks an arm around Pope's leg, holding onto him tight. I don't want to see you hurt, sir, he almost says. I just want them to stop. But you can't say that shit. You can't ask a test to be done before it's done.

Carver shudders hard. He doesn't cry, though. He doesn't beg. And in the distance, he thinks he hears footsteps.