#God Fire Convoy

[bluespider62]

Attempting to create a backstory for Fire Convoy, God Magnus and the rest of the Car Robots crew

Fair warning, this origin takes place in my AU, Earth-1220, and is heavily inspired by the G1 Episode "War Dawn".

At some point after the end of the war, Alpha Trion would build Fire Convoy and his elder brother, God Magnus, from upgraded specs of Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus respectively, with both bots containing their own Energon Matrix. (Though Magnus' Matrix wouldn't activate due to his bitter personality.) The 2 young brothers would be assigned to work on a rescue team in Iacon, where they would meet Gigatron and a prim and proper fembot named Andromeda. (Real original name and you can guess where this is going, huh ?) Over time, Fire and Gigatron would develop a friendship and at the same time, he'd fall in love with Andromeda.

Side note : The idea of an Autobot and Decepticon leader being childhood friends has already been done before with Star Saber and Deszaras/Deathsaurus. However, rather than three thousand years, Fire and Gigatron's friendship lasted only 4 months in my AU.

At some point, Gigatron became rebellious and gathered a group of followers and formed a gang called "The Predacons". During an attack gone wrong, Andromeda was gravely injured and brought to Trion's workshop to be rebuilt. In an effort to make her stronger, he decided to use Fire Convoy's specs to rebuild into a yellow version of Fire. From that day on, she became Splendid Convoy !

Meanwhile, Gigatron and his Predacons travel to Earth and set up a base in Japan. (Because that's what Decepticons do, I guess…) Once word got out to the Council of Worlds, Fire Convoy was chosen to lead the Autobot Tokyo Patrol Force, which made Magnus more bitter than ever as he travelled to Earth in hopes to take down the Predacons.

Once on Earth, Fire and Splendid recruited the Autobot brothers, consisting of Wildride, Prowl and Speedburner.

JEEZ I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING WHEN I MADE THIS 😭

[jknighttoku10]

Here’s omega prime my dad got for my on my birthday!^^ and they are amazing!^^

[princess-viola]

[longwuzhere]

My Haslab Omega Prime is here!!!

Transformers Robots in Disguise from 2001 was my first introduction to Earth based vehicle Transformers. I watched Beast Wars back in the day and that was my first introduction to Transformers overall. The pic on the left is Omega Prime/God Fire Convoy in Japan combined from Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus while on the right its Omega Prime with the rest of Super Mode Optimus attached on. There is a secret mode where you can attach all of the Super Mode Optimus parts on him and this is what I made until they release an official video instructions on how it's properly done.

Here is Optimus Prime or Fire Convoy as he is named in Car Robots: Transformers in Japan with the Super Mode armor in base mode. Love that you can give Optimus the missile rack mounted on his shoulders just like in the original toy back in the early 2000s. With this new version he's got better articulation like an ab crunch and ratcheted hips, knees, and shoulders. He's got thicker thighs to even out Super Mode and Omega Prime's proportions. I did have to do some sanding in the inner spinal column because you have to push down on the body and out of the box it had no cracks on the abs, but I did the sanding to prevent future damaging there.

Now here is Optimus in Super Mode and vehicle mode. Like I said before from the base mode parts you can armor up Optimus into his iconic Super Mode. Still retains his articulation from his normal robot mode but not has finger articulation. This version of Optimus here is my favorite because of the vehicle mode choice. A fire engine fits Optimus so well because he saves lives like fire fighters. Optimus Prime needs to be fire engines more often! Bonus points to this version for allowing Cerebros, the bonus Titanmaster figure to sit in the bucket. Also the ladder extends and the missiles in it can flip out while the warheads are removable.

The other two figures include in this are Ultra Magnus or God Magnus in Car Robots: Transformers and Bluebolts. The cartoon/anime really played up the anti-hero-ness of this version of Ultra Magnus and it really stuck with me as a kid. I love that the creative team really redesigned Bluebolts here. Originally 2001 Bluebolts was just a weapon pack for Ultra Magnus, but here the design team gave her cool modular parts and can still transform into Ultra Magnus' weapon pack.

Thanks to her modular nature Bluebolts can separate and fill out the empty spaces in Ultra Magnus' chest and back legs. Really smart way for weapons storage.

I adore this vehicle mode for Ultra Magnus. He homages the 80s UM by being a car carrier truck but its more like what a car carrier would look like driving on the streets at least how I usually see them. Vehicle mode can carry up to 3 cars.

The photos don't do it justice but Omega Prime here can double hand the nearly 2ft tall Matrix Blade and you can pull off the Obari pose! Its freaking cool! God I love Transformers Robots in Disguise/ Car Robots: Transformers!

[theenbimeister]

GOD MAGNUS VS FIRE CONVOY

[bigprettygothgf]

happy pride month kayla!! you're so cool I love your transformers 🚗🤖

im sorry im late to seeing this but happy pride and thank u 🥺🥰 just got this yesterday

[primeconvoy1]

I had received my Hasbro Haslab Omega Prime recently, so lots of pictures will be up soon.

Just from the initial unboxing, the one thing I really appreciate is the presentation of the packaging.

Love all the illustrations that adorn the outside of the box. It really pops! Shout out to the artists that worked on this.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[totalapathy]

141 x reader Fic REC | Follow the Authors!

I did not write any of these. This is a list of fanfics I really liked that include all members of the 141 x reader or poly!141 x reader. If you have a 141 fanfic you like msg me and ill add it to the list! If you are an author and do not want your fic listed msg me and ill take it down.

- Series -

Off to See the Wizard | @nerdygirlramblings

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 9/? | 15.2k | Stuck on Reader being someone like Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds, stationed in the US under Laswell

Forever winter (If you go) | @loveindefinitely

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 14/? | 50.1k | When your commander -- Phillip Graves -- turns against the Los Vaqueros and Task Force 141, you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between your own morals, and your duty to serve the man you can no longer idolise, a choice must be made.Do you help the two operatives you know deserve to live? Or do you fight with your unit -- the men you swore to stand beside?The decision is made when you find yourself stumbling, quite literally, into one Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish; and, effectively, the 141's entire lives.

This is Going To Hurt | @moody-alcoholic

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 5/10 | 14.8k | During a botched military convoy you're kidnapped by Al-Qatala. While the rest of 141 are on their way to find you, you're forced to endure torture and help the enemy to survive.

On a Wing and a Prayer | @moody-alcoholic

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 11/11 | 19.2k | 141 mistaken you for the traitor. The person who leaked intel to Makarov and got Johnny shot. Now you're forced to move on without the people you love the most.

Rec Room | @void-my-warranty

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 2/? | 3.6k | NSFW The 141 swear the clit is in the wrong spot and you show them proof. After you sneak off to the rec room to jerk off at night, but Ghost seems to have a similar idea.

Fire Watch | @auspicioustidings

Firefighter!141 x Reader | Series | 14/14 | 30k | NSFW You really should have been less stubborn and just called an electrician to do the wiring, because after your cottage had went up in a blaze the 141 had made the decision to spirit you away to their fire tower deep in the woods to take care of you.

Deity!AU | @meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender

Deity!141 x Reader | Series | 3/4 | 10k | NSFW Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? In other words, smut about diety! 141

Mafia AU | @peachil

Mafia!141 x Show girl/Law Student!Reader | Series | 9/? | 17.5k | You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous man.

Dukedom AU | @beloveds-embrace

141 x Duchess!Reader | Series + Extras + Drabbles | Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️���️

Omegaverse Works | @beloveds-embrace

| Poly!141 x Designationless!Reader | Poly!141 x ES Omega!Reader Beloved's embrace's omegaverse works

Hoarfrost | @prettypinkguns

Wolf Shifter!141 x Human!Reader | Series | 1/? | 5.5k | You soon realize something wasn’t quite right about those men or the pack of wolves, with their strangely intelligent eyes, that frequented the woods surrounding your property. Curious, you're determined to get to the bottom of it. But as the saying famously went… curiosity kills the cat.

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood | @soaps-mohawk

Poly!141 x Omega!reader | Series | 46/? | 377.5k | NSFW Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it. It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks.  As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Call of Duty Omegaverse AU | sprout-fics

Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Series | 14/? | 20.9k | NSFW You've concealed your presence as an omega for your entire military career, careening up the ranks, collecting accolades, and having the privilege to assist the notorious 141 Taskforce. Yet on a mission gone wrong, you find yourself in circumstances entirely out of your control, and the events that follow hurtle you into the path of a pack that finds out they will do anything to make you theirs.

Only Human | @diejager

Monster!141 + König & Horangi x Human!reader | Series + Extras + Drabbles | God - Laswell - blessed you with a team of strong, capable monsters.

- Shots -

Home is where you are | @1-ker0sene-1

Poly!141 x Wife!Reader | One Shot | 1.3k | It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are.

Something Bad | @loves-alibi

Dark!141 x Reader | One Shot | 1.6k | There’s something wrong with the 141…

Digital Mischief , 02 | @goatgoesmbe

Poly!141 x Reader | Double Shot | 3.8k | "In which you joined a discord server to find people to play an FPS game with, only to be welcomed by four military men."

Body Electric | @yeyinde

141 + Los Vaqueros x reader | One Shot | 8.9k | NSFW Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever... had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there. (Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)

Afterburn | sprout-fics

141 & Los Vaqueros x reader | One Shot | 8k | NSFW Sprout-fic's take on the aftermath of Body Electric by @yeyinde

Call in Sick | @yufloria

Soft!141 x Reader | One Shot | 3.2k | After a mission gone wrong in an undisclosed location Task Force 141 is forced to stay in a safe house, a cabin, in the middle of a dense forest and high between the mountains. It is no task for the team but unfortunately for you. You were injured.  

Gangbang | @konigsblog

141 x Reader | One Shot | 6.5k | NSFW the 141 finally have their way with their teasing, disobedient recruit.

Crappy Alpha Male Bf Gets Dunked On | @charliemwrites

Poly!141 X Teammate's Gf!Reader | One Shot | 2.7k | Mr. steal your girl 141 & crappy alpha male bf

Free use Medic | @all-purpose-dish-soap

Poly!141 X Medic!Reader | One Shot | 1.1k | NSFW "You can share,” Price tells them. Then he gives you a pointed look. “Saves time. You can rest on the bird, sweetheart."

Ravenous , 02 | @tojisun

| One Shot | 7k | NSFW cant come <fuck me please <> quite forward of you. well, since you asked so nicely, we’re on our way.You had sent the message to- you had sent it to the damn group chat

Need to Listen to Me | @loveindefinitely

Poly!141 X Teammate!Reader | One Shot | 4.4k | NSFW Yeah. You don't fear many things. But Johns disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

Our Girlfriend | @vampire-matcha

141 X Kyle's Gf!Reader | One Shot | 2.2k | NSFW Everyone always talks about John “share my wife” Price but what about Kyle “our girlfriend” Garrick???

"Shared Wife" Trope | @beloveds-embrace

141 x Price's Wife!Reader | One Shot | 1.2k | It wasn’t just him anymore, though. They were always there, watching. Protecting- for you belonged to John, and so did they

Bf Simon Shares Your Nudes With the Boys | @duskier

141 x Simon's Gf!Reader | One shot | 1.2k | NSFW "Come awn, tell us about her Lt," Soap would try and goad him. They were leaned up against each other, shoulder to shoulder against the wall behind them.

Our Girlfriend , 02 , 03 | @3amfanfiction

141 x Johnny's Gf!Reader | Triple Shot | 9.5k | NSFW (unknowingly) being the team's girlfriend. Smut, fluff, & a snippet

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star | @vellichor-of-the-solivagant

Professor!141 X Student!Reader | One Shot | 5.3k | NSFW A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy.

The Prize of Prey | @quitefawnish

Knight!141 x Reader | One Shot | 3.6k | NSFW knights in the middle ages only had to court noble women, whereas any peasant woman was open to their desires, and they were in fact encouraged to do so.

Bodyguard!141 x Sick!Reader | @beloveds-embrace

| One Shot | 1.7k | while you had initially bristled at the idea of four men shadowing your every step, you’d quickly grown accustomed to their presence.It was hard not to. They made you feel protected.

Deductive Reasoning | @auspicioustidings

Merman!141 X Researcher!Reader | One Shot | 1.3k | Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their... biology

Saint's Story , 02 | @charliemwrites

Omega!141 x Alpha!reader | Double Shot | 3.8k | NSFW having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Yandere Hybrid team 141 | @nina-renmen

Hybrid!141 x Polarbear Hybrid!Reader | One Shot | 1.2k | 141 stumbles upon y/n. Thinking that she’s small and fragile they attempt to ‘take advantage’ of her only to figure out she’s a polar bear hybrid.

- Drabbles -

141 x Reader | Drabble | @cod-indulgences 141 finds your dildos NSFW 141 X Younger!Reader | Drabble | @loveindefinitely Uni Student!reader meets the 141 at a military bar 141 x Medic!Reader | Drabble | @goatgoesmbe there are an odd four that somehow always made your day better. Poly!141 X Puppy Girl!Reader | Drabble | @loveindefinitely 141 with a girl who acts more like a puppy than a soldier NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @lunarkitten97 Poly!141 x reader with an oral fixation NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @duskier Price holding your pussy open with his thumbs while the rest of the team looks over his shoulder NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @xo-cod Sharing the barracksSharing the barracks NSFW 141 x Kyle's Gf!Reader | Drabble | @all-purpose-dish-soap Poker night. But the boys know how to keep things interesting Retired!141 x Neighbor!Reader | Drabble | @burner141 they meet you. The charming new neighbor with a pretty voice and an even prettier smile. 141 x Bartender!Reader | Drabble | @devil-in-hiding The boys find out your not married Monster!141 x Owl hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Monster!141 turn Barn Owl!reader into their pet NSFW Monster!141 x Cat hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Kitten!reader gets tied up in string just as Monster!141 come back NSFW Monster!141 x Bunny Hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Crybaby Bunny!Reader who stumbles upon Monster!141's base NSFW Vampire!141 x Human!Reader | @beloveds-embrace they don’t tell you they are vampires and you have no reason to suspect they are Demon!141 x Reader | Drabble | @red5tars demon!141 staking claim on the poor little thing that summoned them. Dark!141 x Angel!Reader | Drabble | @goatgoesmbe GuardianAngel!Reader who was sent to 141 at their darkest time. Hybrid!141 x Human!Reader | @ cs-fox they’d be so surprised when a normal human joins their task force. Hybrid!141 x Crow Hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @ teddy-bear-baby crow hybrid!y/n joining hybrid!TF141 and just stealing random things from them Poly!141 x Beta!Reader | Drabble | @ teletubbyinlipstick okay, hear me out a/b/o tf141 universe where female betas are RARE. Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ kaadaaan Soap who is sick of being the only omega in his pack so he’s digging up some dirt on another Sergeant Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ kaadaaan They wind up with another omega, and find themselves more attached than they thought they would be. NSFW Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ thecherubangel “Simon…f-fuck stop-“ You close your legs and try to move his hand; the others watch as you struggle in Ghosts grasp. NSFW Viking!141 x Reader | Drabble | @ nerdygirlramblings viking!141 with some historical accuracy Knight!141 x Peasant!Reader | Drabble | @ drgnflyteabox four massive armour clad knights at the door... and whaddyaknow, they're looking to stay the night NSFW Cultist!141 x Reader | Drabble | @ pricegouge Outlast2!au “Give us a baby and we’ll keep you safe.”

Last updated 03/11/25

[tinyshyteacup]

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @dixonsbridexx @yikes-myguy @blackwidownat2814 @euqsia @lliteratii @imadisneyprincessiswear @satata @smashleywow @misspendragonsworld @captain-shannon-becker @i-doutt-it @bookies16 @brianna-merlim @staley83 @oceanticspace @insaneintheemembranev2 @dummylovewp @xmiaacxio @meyukoo @grilka @itsgivingdepression @timebomb1101 @inejghafasdagger @koshkahhh @juliperezsilveira @pandaofsilentdeath

-------------------------------------------

TW: Cussing, Walkers (Zombies), tension, kidnapping, helplessness, coercion, lecherous behavior, predatory behavior, angst, Negan is a Villan, SA (Implied, offscreen)

Part 44

Dead Weight - Part 45

The sight of Alexandria's gates feels like a mockery as Negan's convoy rolls through them. You're sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of the lead truck, your hands clenched in your lap, trying not to think about how wrong this all feels. Carl is in the back with some of Negan's men, and you can feel the tension radiating from him even without looking back.

This should be home.

This should be safety.

Instead, it feels like just another violation.

"Well, would you look at this place," Negan says cheerfully as he climbs out of the truck. "Suburban paradise. Makes a man want to settle down, raise a family." His eyes find you as you reluctantly follow. "What do you think, sweetheart? Could see ourselves with a little white picket fence?"

The casual way he includes you in his fantasy makes your stomach turn. You don't answer, focusing instead on Carl as he leads you toward his house. The streets are too quiet—everyone hiding, probably, which is smart.

In the kitchen, Negan makes himself at home with disgusting ease, rummaging through cabinets and commenting on everything like he owns the place. When Olivia appears, clearly terrified but trying to be helpful, you watch Negan's face change as he looks her up and down.

"Now, Olivia, right?" His voice has that false friendliness that makes your skin crawl. "You and I need to have a little chat about your... inventory management. See, I'm looking at you, and you look like you've been eating pretty well. But my men outside? They're telling me people here are starving."

Olivia's face crumples, and you can see her fighting back tears. "We... we are. I have diabetes, I'm not... it's not because I'm taking extra—"

"Hey," you step forward before you can stop yourself. "Leave her alone."

Negan's attention swings to you, and his smile sharpens. "Well, look at that. My little wife's got some fire in her. I do like that in a woman."

The word 'wife' hits you like a slap. You hate yourself everytime he uses it. You agreed to go with him to save Daryl's life, and he took Daryl anyway. The betrayal still burns in your chest.

Judith's crying starts from upstairs, and Olivia moves to go get her, but Negan holds up a hand. "Now hold on there, Olivia. I'd like to meet the little princess."

"I'll get her," you say quickly, already moving toward the stairs. The last thing you want is Negan's hands on Lil Asskicker. You climb the stairs quickly, your heart pounding with a mixture of protective instinct and dread.

In the nursery, you find Judith standing in her crib, her little fists gripping the rails as tears stream down her red cheeks. The sight of her distress makes your chest ache.

"Hey there, Lil Asskicker," you whisper softly, using the nickname that always makes you think of Daryl.

Your throat tightens as you lift her into your arms, remembering how gentle he always was with her.

God, you miss him.

The not knowing is eating you alive - is he hurt? Is he eating ?

You've heard whispers, but its just whispers and the uncertainty is torture.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetie I've got you," you murmur against her soft hair, trying to push down the grief that threatens to overwhelm you.

Judith's crying subsides as you rock her gently, her tiny hand fisting in your shirt. She's always been easy to settle, maybe because you've been there since the day she was born, through every sleepless night and fever scare.

You've changed her diapers, sung her lullabies, and promised her that her family your group would always protect her.

Now that promise feels heavier than ever.

When you return downstairs, Negan's eyes immediately lock onto you and Judith with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

Negan's grin turns predatory, and he leans back against the kitchen counter like he owns the place. "You know, having babies around always gets me thinking," he says, his eyes roaming over you in a way that makes your skin crawl.

"All this responsibility, all this... domestic bliss. Course, making them is the fun part, if you know what I mean." He chuckles at his own crude joke, completely unbothered by the fact that there are children present.

"Nothing quite like a woman who knows how to handle the little ones. Shows she's got all the right... instincts."

There's something predatory in his gaze as it moves between you and the baby, and when he speaks, his voice suggestive in a way that makes you want to scrub your skin clean.

Carl steps closer to you, his jaw set in that stubborn way that reminds you so much of Rick. "Leave her alone," he says, his voice steady despite his age. His hand hovers near his gun, and you can see the protective anger burning in his eyes. "She said no."

Negan raises an eyebrow, amused rather than threatened. "Easy there, Carl. I'm just making conversation." He moves toward the stove, opening cabinets like he's been living here for years.

"How about we all just relax? I'm thinking spaghetti for dinner. Nothing says 'getting to know each other' like a home-cooked meal." He pulls out a pot with theatrical flair, but his eyes keep drifting back to you holding Judith, that same unsettling hunger never quite leaving his expression.

The smell of garlic and tomato sauce fills the kitchen as Negan hums while stirring the pot, acting like this is the most natural thing in the world.

He's made himself completely at home, opening cabinets and drawers like it was his home, instead of the truth of him being an unwelcome invader.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Negan says, glancing over his shoulder at where you sit at the kitchen table with Judith on your lap and Carl beside you, both of you tense and watchful. "Just like a real family dinner. Carl, you're the man of the house while Rick's away. And look at this beautiful little setup we got here." His eyes linger on you holding Judith.

You bounce Judith gently, trying to keep her calm while your own heart races. "There you go, Lil Asskicker," you whisper, and the nickname brings another sharp pang of missing Daryl.

You can imagine his presence in the room - the way he'd be standing between you and Negan right now, that protective tension in his shoulders, ready to fight even if it meant getting hurt. The memory of his arms around you feels like a different life.

Negan continues his performance, tasting the sauce with theatrical flair. "You know, this reminds me of before. The first of my wives, she used to cook for me just like this. Course, that was before I learned how much more... efficient it is to have multiple wives. Spreads the workload around, if you catch my meaning." He winks at you, completely ignoring Carl's disgusted expression.

"That's sick," Carl mutters under his breath, but loud enough for Negan to hear.

"Sick?" Negan laughs, turning around with the wooden spoon still in his hand. "Carl, my boy, that's just practical. Why limit yourself to one when you can have your pick? Speaking of which..." His gaze slides back to you, predatory and patient. "My offer still stands. You threw yourself over that redneck boyfriend of yours real pretty-like. Showed real loyalty. I can respect that. But he's not here anymore, is he?"

The words hit like a physical blow, and you instinctively hold Judith tighter. Carl's hand moves toward where his gun wpuld be again, but you catch his eye and shake your head slightly.

Not with Judith here.

Don't make things worse.

"I remember that night," Negan continues, seemingly oblivious to the tension he's creating. "The way you begged for his life. Real touching stuff. Course, it didn't change anything - I still needed to make my point. But it showed me something about you. Showed me you know how to be devoted to a man." He stirs the pasta with slow, deliberate movements. "Question is, are you ready to be devoted to the right man now?"

Before you can respond, there's a knock at the front door. Negan's expression shifts, irritation flashing across his features at the interruption of his twisted domestic fantasy.

"Well, shit," he mutters, setting down the spoon. "Hold that thought, sweetheart."

Spencer stands on the porch when Negan opens the door, looking nervous but trying to project confidence. You can hear every word from the kitchen, and your stomach drops as you realize what Spencer is about to do.

"Negan, right? I'm Spencer Monroe. I was hoping we could talk."

"Spencer fucking Monroe!" Negan's voice booms with false cheer. "Rick's told me absolutely nothing about you. Come on in, buddy."

You watch in growing horror as Spencer enters, glancing nervously at you and Carl before focusing on Negan. He's trying to stand tall, but you can see the fear underneath his bravado.

"I wanted to talk to you about Rick," Spencer begins, and immediately you know this is going to end badly. "About his leadership. I think there might be a better way to handle things around here."

Negan's smile turns sharp and dangerous. "Oh, is that so? You think you could do better than Rick? You think you got what it takes to lead these people?"

Spencer nods, clearly misreading Negan's tone. "I do. I was born here. These people trust me. And I think I could make things run more smoothly between our communities."

"Well, Spencer," Negan says, his voice dropping to that quiet, deadly tone that makes your blood run cold. "You know what I think? I think you're a gutless piece of shit."

The temperature in the room plummets. Carl tenses beside you, and you pull Judith closer, covering her ears instinctively.

"I think you're the kind of man who waits for another man to go out and risk his life, and then comes to me to undermine him. You want to take over? You want Rick's job?" Negan's hand moves to his belt, and you see the glint of his knife. "You got to earn it. But you know what? I don't think you got the guts."

"I... I do have the guts," Spencer stammers, but it's too late. You can see it in Negan's eyes - Spencer's already dead, he just doesn't know it yet.

"Really? Let's see them."

The knife moves faster than you can blink, and Spencer's scream cuts through the air. You turn away, pressing Judith's face against your shoulder, but you can't block out the wet, horrible sounds that follow.

"Yep," Negan says conversationally, as if he's commenting on the weather. "No guts."

When you finally look back, Spencer is on the ground, and Negan is wiping his knife clean on a dish towel - one of the good ones that belonged to Rick's family before all this started.

"Well," Negan says, turning back toward the kitchen like nothing happened. "Now that that's settled, who's hungry? That spaghetti should be just about ready."

Back at the Sanctuary, you feel like you're suffocating. The place reeks of fear and submission, everything you've spent years fighting against.

Time had become meaningless at the Sanctuary - weeks blending together in a haze of fear and survival. Six weeks? A month? You'd stopped counting. The black dress they'd given you - one of his "wives'" dresses - hung on your frame, a constant reminder of what you were.

You're standing in what used to be someone's office, now converted into one of the "wives'" rooms, when there's a soft knock at the door.

Sherry slips inside, glancing around nervously before closing the door behind her.

She found you, staring out the window at the courtyard where Walkers were chained to the fence. She sat down beside you without a word, her own black dress a mirror of your captivity.

You'd been jumping at shadows lately, flinching whenever footsteps came too close, your hands shaking when anyone raised their voice.

"I have something for you," she says quietly, pressing a set of keys into your hand. "Level B, end of the hall. The bikes are in the loading dock on the east side."

Your heart stops. "Sherry—"

"There's going to be a distraction in about ten minutes. Some new guy causing trouble in the main hall. You're going to get out, both of you, Dwight will help you."

"Why ... are you helping us?"

Her smile is sad and tired. "Because I remember what it was like to love someone that much. And because maybe if you get out, it means there's still hope for the rest of us."

She stood up abruptly. "Come with me. Now."

"I cant he'll kill him I—" you stammered, but she was already walking away.

"Just trust me," she said over her shoulder. "For once in this godforsaken place, just trust someone."

You followed her through corridors you'd never seen before, your heart hammering against your ribs. Every turn could be a trap, every step could lead to punishment.

But something in Sherry's voice made you believe her.

She stopped in front of a heavy door, checking both ways down the hall. "Dwight's in there with him," she said quietly.

"Don't ask me why he's doing this. Don't ask me anything. Just run." She squeezed your hand.

"Third bay from the left."

"Sherry, what-"

"No questions." Her voice was firm but not unkind.

She unlocked the door. "Go. Before I change my mind."

They think they broke me, Daryl thought, sitting in the corner of his cell as footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Think all that music and dog food sandwiches gonna make me roll over like some bitch.

But every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Throwing yourself over him, begging Negan to spare his life. The way you'd looked at him in those last seconds before they dragged him away - not with pity or fear, but with something he still couldn't quite believe was real.

The cell door was already open when you approached, and you could see two figures inside - Daryl backed against the wall, and Dwight standing near the entrance looking conflicted.

"Time to go," Dwight said simply when he saw you. He didn't look at either of you directly. "You got maybe three minutes before the next patrol."

Daryl's eyes found yours across the small space, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He looked thinner, paler, but his eyes... his eyes were still the same. Still looking at you like he couldn't quite believe you were real.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" he breathed, moving toward you with his arms already reaching out for you.

But when he moved to pull you into his arms - the same instinctive embrace that had always comforted you - you jerked backward, your whole body recoiling from his touch.

The rejection hit him like a physical blow. You stood there in that black dress, trembling, avoiding his eyes completely, and everything about your posture screamed don't touch me.

Somethin's wrong, Daryl realized, his hands dropping to his sides. Somethin's real wrong.

"Are we really getting out of here," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you wouldn't look at him directly.

Daryl's protective instincts flared to life, stronger than they'd ever been. The way you kept your distance, the shadows under your eyes, the way you flinched when he'd tried to touch you...

"We're leavin'. Right now," he said, his voice hard with determination. He looked at Dwight. "How long we got?"

"Two minutes, maybe less."

Whatever happened to her in this place, I ain't lettin' it happen again, Daryl thought grimly. Never again.

Moving through the Sanctuary's corridors felt like a nightmare. Every shadow could hide a Savior, every sound could mean discovery.

Daryl stayed close behind you, but not too close - he'd learned his lesson in the cell. You walked with careful distance between you, your arms wrapped around yourself defensively.

This is wrong, he thought. All wrong. She used to trust me to keep her safe, used to let me guide her.

But now you navigated the hallways like you were afraid of him, like his presence was just another threat to manage.

Get her out first, he told himself. Questions later. Just get her safe.

His protective instincts were screaming now, every fiber of his being focused on one thing, getting you away from this place, away from whatever had put that, that fear into your eyes.

Shoulda never let Negan take her in the first place.

They reached the exit Sherry had told you about, a service door that led to the bikes. Daryl pressed his ear to the door, listening. Nothing.

"Once we're out there, we don't stop," he whispered. "No matter what happens, y'keep runnin'. You hear me?"

You nodded, but he could see the fear in your eyes. The same fear he'd seen that night with the claimers when you'd curled up against him, trusting him to keep you safe.

The garage was eerily quiet, their footsteps echoing off concrete walls. Daryl found the bike in the third bay - that would get them out fast if they could make it to the perimeter.

"Y'good?" he asked quietly, swinging his leg over the seat.

You nodded, but when you approached the bike, you hesitated. You positioned yourself carefully on the seat, leaving as much space as possible between you.

Is she's afraid of me ? Afaird to touch me, the thought hit him hard.

"Y'don't gotta..." he started, then stopped.

Whatever he was going to say - that you didn't have to be afraid, that he'd never hurt you - the words felt hollow. Something had changed, and empty reassurances weren't going to fix it.

Just get her home, he told himself. Get her safe first. Everything else can wait.

When you finally put your hands on his sweatshirt - light, barely there, like you were ready to let go at any second - Daryl felt his jaw clench with renewed determination.

Never again, he thought as he started the engine.

Whatever he did to her, it ain't happenin' again.

The bike purred to life, and Daryl felt a moment of pure relief. This was freedom - the road, the machine beneath him, and you behind him. This was how it was supposed to be.

The gate was unmanned - Dwight's doing, no doubt. They rolled through slowly, waiting for shouts, for gunfire, for the sound of pursuit.

But there was only silence and the road stretching ahead toward Alexandria.

You sat behind him on the bike, still in that black dress, and every time he felt you tense up or heard your breath catch, his chest tightened. The way you held onto him was sp different now - careful, hesitant, like you were afraid of getting too close.

She's hurt, he realized. Not just physically. Something deeper. Something that bastard did to her while I was locked up, useless.

"Y'alright?" he called back over the engine noise.

"Yeah," you replied, but your voice was tight, controlled. The same voice you'd used in the early days after the prison fell, when you were still learning to trust him.

Time had become meaningless in that cell, but he knew it had been too long. Too long for you to be in Negan's hands, too long for him to be helpless to protect you.

The bike ate up the miles, but Daryl couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed. Ever since that cabin after the claimers, you'd fall asleep together, you used to fall asleep against him, even on runs sometimes. Now you sat rigid, alert, like you were ready to run at any moment.

Merle's voice uncurled from his skull and whispered in his head "Look what you did to her, little brother. Look what your weakness cost her."

When you reached over and touched his arm - just briefly, like you were checking he was still there - Daryl felt something crack in his chest. Whatever had happened at the Sanctuary, whatever Negan had done to put that careful distance in your touch, he'd find a way to help you heal from it.

He had to.

"Almost home," you whispered, and for the first time in a weeks, Daryl allowed himself to hope.

--------------------------------

The bike sputtered and died about twenty miles from Alexandria, the engine finally giving up after running on fumes. Daryl cursed under his breath as he guided it to the side of the road.and hid it in the underbrush, the silence suddenly deafening after hours of engine noise.

"We gotta camp tonight," he said, scanning the treeline for somewhere defensible.

You nodded without speaking, and he noticed how you hugged your arms around yourself again. The black dress offered no protection against the chill, and he could see you shivering.

He found an old hunting cabin about a half mile into the woods - abandoned but sturdy, with a fireplace that still worked. Daryl got a fire going while you sat on the opposite side of the small room.

She used to sit right next to me, he thought, poking at the flames. Used to curl up against my side without even thinkin' about it.

"Come closer to the fire," he said gently. "You're gonna freeze over there."

You shook your head, pulling your knees up to your chest. "I'm fine."

But you weren't fine. He could see you shivering, could see the way you kept your eyes fixed on the door like you were planning an escape route. When he moved you flinched backward so hard you hit the wall.

"Hey," he said, freezing mid-motion. "Hey, it's just me."

The look in your eyes - wide, startled, afraid - made his stomach twist. In the attic room you'd shared back in Alexandria, you used to wake up in his arms almost every morning. Soft and warm and trusting, your face peaceful in sleep, your small hand usually curled against his chest.

Those quiet moments before the others woke up had been the closest thing to peace he'd ever known.

What did that bastard do to her? The question rose in his throat, desperate to be voiced. What did Negan do while I was locked up in that cell, useless, unable to protect her?

But just thinking about asking made his stomach turn, made bile rise in his throat. Because if you told him, if you said the words out loud, he'd have to hear them. He'd have to know exactly how he'd failed you, exactly what his reckless fists had cost.

--------------------------------

The cold was getting worse, and eventually survival won out over fear. You watched him for a long moment, studying his face in the firelight. This was Daryl. The man who'd held you, who'd kissed you so carefully he'd trembled. The man who'd never once made you feel unsafe.

But everything feels different now, you thought, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Everything feels dirty.

Slowly, carefully, you moved closer to the fire. Not close enough to touch him, but close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from the flames. Daryl didn't look at you directly, didn't make any sudden movements. He just kept feeding small pieces of wood to the fire, giving you space to decide what you could handle.

After what felt like hours, you shifted slightly closer. The cold was seeping through the thin black dress, making your bones ache.

You trusted Daryl - that hadn't changed. It was your own body that felt like a stranger now, your own skin that felt contaminated.

He's safe, you reminded yourself. Daryl would never... he's not like that.

Tentatively, you moved your hand across the small space between you. Your pinky finger brushed against his where it rested on the cabin floor, and you linked them together - just barely, just the smallest possible connection.

Daryl went very still, like he was afraid any movement might spook you. But he didn't pull away. He let you control the contact, let you decide how much you could bear.

"It's okay," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever happened... it's okay. Y'safe now."

The words made your throat tight, made tears threaten to spill over. Because you wanted to believe him, wanted to feel safe again. But Negan's hands were still burned into your memory, his voice still echoing in your head, and you didn't know how to make it stop.

But Daryl's pinky stayed linked with yours.

"I ain't ever gonna hurt you," he said instead, his voice rougher than he intended.

"You know that, right?"

You nodded, but you didn't move closer.

You watched him across the firelight, this man who had kept you safe through so many nights. Daryl - who had never taken anything from you, never demanded anything, never made you feel like you owed him something just for existing.

The memories of gentle mornings and careful kisses felt like they belonged to someone else now, someone who hadn't been broken down.

But this was Daryl. And despite everything Negan had tried to steal from you, despite how the very thought of touch made your skin crawl now, you trusted him completely. You always had.

Daryl slowly so very slowly, turned his hand so his pinky could properly link with yours. Such a small thing, but it felt monumental - this tiny bridge between you both.

You sat like that for a long time, pinkies linked, watching the fire burn down. When Daryl finally spoke, his voice was rougher than usual.

"Can I..." he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. His hand was trembling slightly where it connected with yours. "Would it be okay if I... if I Just... just ... please."

The request was so gentle, so carefully asked, that it almost broke something inside you. He was trembling - actually trembling - with the effort of not doing anything that might hurt you further.

"You don't have to ask," you said quietly, but even as you did it, you were grateful that he had. That he understood how fragile everything felt now.

"Yeah, I do," he said simply. "M'always gonna ask."

You nodded, as he leaned forward with infinite care. His lips pressed against your temple - soft, reverent, nothing like that man.

This was Daryl giving you something instead of taking it away.

When he pulled back, you were both crying - silent tears that caught the firelight and spoke of things too broken to put into words yet.

[bluespider62]

Made some more voice headcanons ! Feel free to yell at me in the comments hehehe

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 11 - Where Do We Go From Here

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: mentions of past tourture, PTSD, mental health, discriptions of injuries.

Previous parts - masterlist- next

AO3

You wake to the first rays of sun coming through the window. When you shuffle you wake Johnny just squeezes you tighter to him. You groan, stretching your aching body. Johnny wakes and you peal from his arms swinging your legs out the bed. 

“Shepherd would have a field day if he caught us doing this.” You say sitting down on the chair to pull your boots on. 

Johnny chuckles, “Yeah. Did you ever find out what was happening with Price?” You look up at him frowning. 

“What do you mean?” He props himself up on his elbow pressing his lips together. 

“He was suspended.” Johnny says, frowning. 

“Yeah. But he helped with the hostage transfer. He’s not suspended anymore.” You say, shaking your head. Johnny doesn’t say anything, he just raises an eyebrow. You feel yourself panic standing up out of the chair. 

“What do you know Johnny?” You ask for gripping the bed guard. He lets out a breath, you grip the guard waiting for him to talk. 

“Simon told me he didn’t get permission from Shepherd to help with the transfer.” He says, you feel your stomach drop. 

“No, there’s no way.” You scoff. “There were like 3 Generals there, they would have stopped him.” 

“He knows a lot of Generals.” Johnny says, lowering his gaze. 

You’re already leaving the room. You hear Johnny call after you but you don’t care. You have no idea where he could be but you assume the admin building. You know John’s office is on the second floor. Maybe there or maybe they're in some random room. 

“Hey!” You call out to the first person you see. He’s carrying a pile of paperwork. 

“Where’s General Shepherd?” You snap. 

“Second office to the left.” He says, nodding down the hall. You let his arm go rushing in that direction. 

“Wait!” He calls, you stop in your tracks. “He’s in a meeting in the conference room.” You don’t respond, turning to go down a different hall. You throw yourself through the door. 

“Sergeant!” Shepherd calls standing up. You look around the room, John is sat on the other side of the table. Kate is here too. 

“General. You can’t fire John.” You say. You’re not thinking as you walk towards him. 

“Sergeant” He puts his hand out, you don’t care you’re going to protect John, he doesn’t deserve this. 

“He hasn’t done anything wrong, sir. I will vouch for him his, help during the hostage transfer was insurmountable.” You say. Shepard scoffs, it makes you mad. 

“You should not have even been there.” He snaps at you. Now you’re seeing red.

“I should never have been kidnapped!” You snap back. 

“No, and who’s fault is that?” Shepherd asks. 

“You tell me it was the Americans who had the intel. We were supposed to be on a plane to Urzikstan instead, you insisted we do the convoy.” You say. 

“Sergeant” You feel John’s hand on your shoulder. You try to shove it off but he keeps a firm grip. Shepherd sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. The door to the room crashes open again and everyone but you looks over. You keep your eyes on Shepherd as you watch him let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank God. Lieutenant, take her outside please.” Shepherd says. You hear a familiar sigh. It’s Simon, you’re not leaving until you know John’s job is safe. 

“No. I’m not leaving.” You say digging your heels into the floor as Simon grabs your shoulders. Shepherd sighs again bracing himself on the tables. 

“Captain Price is not getting fired.” He says after a second of silence. You relax. “He is however halfway through a disciplinary for disobeying orders. I can add failure to control subordinates to that list if you would like Sergeant.” You look over at Laswell, who’s been typing this whole time, you turn around to look at John. You can’t tell if he looks disappointed or not, his expression is neutral. 

You turn looking back at Shepherd cleaning your throat. 

“For the record. I am sorry for acting extremely unprofessional. Sir.” He nods, you turn heading out the room with Simon following behind you. Shit, you could have ruined everything. 

“You trying to get him fired?” He asks as you walk to the building exit. 

“I thought he was getting fired.” You say. 

“You shouldn't listen to Johnny.” Simon scoffs. “He hit his head during exfil.” It makes you chuckle.

“Whats going to happen to John?” You ask as you make it out into the hot desert air. 

“Nothing hopefully. Probably just a warning which never looks good on paper but he’ll be fine.” Simon sighs. 

“Sorry I almost made it worse.” 

“Yeah, well you wouldn’t have been the first.” You frown looking up at him, he looks back at you quickly you can see he has an eyebrow raised. 

“Kyle?” You ask, he looks away, not Kyle. 

“Christ.” You chuckle as you make it to the med bay. “Is Ghost getting soft under there?” You tease, nudging him. He sighs, crossing his arms. You smile looking over at the line of medical vehicles parked outside the entrance. 

“What time will it be finished?” You ask. 

“Couple of hours I would bet.” You nod, tapping him on the shoulder. 

“I’m going to go get my hands dirty. Keep myself out of trouble so I don’t get any of you fired.” You say heading into the medbay. 

…

It’s late evening when you finally get the opportunity to clock off. You’ve been enjoying this weird structure, sort of clocking in and out when you feel like it. By the time you make it back to Johnny’s room though it’s empty. You frown looking around, it’s already been cleaned and prepped for the next person. 

You back out of the room and grab one of the nurses. 

“Patient in room 3 where’s he gone?” You ask. 

“Discharged a couple of hours ago.” She says shrugging and getting back to her work. Great now you’re going to have to wander around the base looking for him. You try the mess first. It’s busy most of the shift changes happen around now. You try to spot any of them but all it does it make you hungry. 

You head to the rec rooms next. The whole place is busy with soldiers lounging around. You hate this place, usually taken up by new soldiers, first tour babies who all look either shit scared or ready for a fight. You don’t know why you bothered checking here, no one in their right minds hangs out here unless you’re new or want access to aircon. 

You ignore the string of wolf whistles you get as you leave heading over to the tents. John has a room in the admin building, although honestly it’s Simon who uses it the most. John’s happy to sleep wherever whenever, when you make it into the tent you see Kyle laid out on his bead with a book in his hand. 

“Hey.” You say, going over to him. “Where’s Johnny?”

“Psych I reckon.” He replies, swinging his legs out the bed and sitting up. “You look like shit.” 

“Long day.” You say going over to your bed and pulling out clean clothes, you’re sick of being stuck in scrubs.  

“Heard what went down with John.” He says, you sigh, pulling your shirt off. You hear Kyle come over to you, his hands land on your waist and he presses a kiss into your neck. 

“How did it go with him?” 

“Fine, he got a warning, Shepherd is grumpy. I'm pretty sure John’s already talking with another general to get it scrubbed from his record.” You chuckle. You want to change but Kyle’s lips are so soft pressing kisses into your neck or on your shoulders.

You turn in his arms, his hands running up and down your side. You lean up and kiss him, it’s slow and soft, his tongue presses against yours and you moan into his mouth. Christ, you’ve missed them, all of them, you can’t wait to get home. 

The door to the tent opens and you both break from the kiss but Kyle doesn’t move his hands. 

“Fratansation and shouting at your superiors all in one day.” Johnny says as he walks in followed by Simon. You tut rolling your eyes and turning out Kyle’s arms to pull a clean shirt on. 

“How did it go with the shrink?” You ask, pulling your boots off and looking up at him.

“Privileged information Sergeant.” Johnny says winking at you.

“You know I have access to your medical records.” You say. He laughs. 

“What flavour of PTSD did you get?” He asks coming over to you as you pull fresh trousers on. 

“The; ‘we need to do more tests’ kind.” You say pulling your belt on as he hands you his paper. 

“I got the classic; ‘start therapy now so it’s not a problem later.’” He chuckles, you sigh looking at the words on the page. 

“How long?” You ask looking back up at him. 

“3 months at least. Then a physical.” He says, you can hear the sadness in his voice. You know he’s going to hate this more then all of you. You look up at him and smile handing him the paper back. 

“You’re going to be bored out your mind with 3 months leave Tav.” Kyle says coming over to slap his shoulder. 

“I’m looking forward to the 3 months of peace and quiet.” SImon says. 

“Ah, you’ll miss me. Mark my words, you'll be begging me to come back in a week.” Johnny says, turning to look at Simon, who crosses his arms. 

“Price wanted to see you.” He says looking over at you. You nod and pull your boots back on picking up the dirty scrubs, you'll throw them in the wash basket on the way over to his office. You walk past them out the tent, the sun is starting to set, you can see trucks leaving out the main entrance most likely heading out to the capital before it gets dark. 

You’ve been on this base for the past month you’re looking forward to getting away from this place, away from this country, at the same time, you know once things start to slow down that’s when the worst will come. The nightmares and the flashbacks, the uneasy thoughts that will plague your day to day life. 

You look down at your nail beds as you walk through the medbay. It’s a constant reminder of what happened, you have other scars too, the one on your neck and your head. Everytime you look in the mirror it’s a reminder of what happened. You could have died, they could have killed you, then what would 141 have done? Moved on without you probably, continued their hunt for Jamal and Khaled then move on to the next threat. 

You throw the shrubs in the laundry room and walk out the building to the admin offices. When you make it to the door you hesitate swallowing the lump in your throat. He probably just wants to talk about Johnny. You tell yourself as you knock on the door. 

“Come in!” He calls and you walk in closing the door behind you. He stands up from his desk and comes around to the otherside stopping in front of you. His hands grip your shoulders while he looks over your face. You don’t know what he’s looking for, you just stand there still for him. Eventually he sighs and leans down to kiss you. Your hands grip his waist as his hands come up to your face. 

His thumbs brush your cheeks, his kiss is needy, sloppy. Too much teeth and tongue but you don’t care, you’ll kiss him like this forever if that's what he needs. Or maybe it’s what you need your fingers digging into his waist to pull him closer to you. 

He breaks from the kiss first but doesn’t let go of your face. “I’ve been wanting to do that since we rescued you.” He says, you smile up at him. 

“Is that all you needed to see me for?” You ask. He sighs again this time dropping his hands from your face and walking over to his desk picking up two pieces of paper. 

“John’s going to be on medical leave for the next 4 months.”

“Bastard.” You whisper. “He said it was only 3 months.” 

“Well, he has to have some kind of corrective surgery back in the UK. It's the minimum time required.” He says, you frown, you’ll check his notes later. 

“I have two options. It’s recommended you take some leave to recover and get some mental health help, therapy and what-not.” He sighs holding up the other piece of paper. “However, it’s only a recommendation, as long as you’re deemed physically and mentally fit for duty there’s no need for you to take any time off.” 

You’re not sure what to say. You don’t want to take any time off, but it could make things worse down the line. 

“I can sign you off for a month, you can stay with Johnny and then we can reassess.” He says, it seems like he wants you to take that offer.

“What about the rest of you?” 

“If we’re lucky we'll can get stationed somewhere in the UK for a few months. We’re basically starting from scratch hunting for Jamal, Khaled and Sayyid. It could take us months to pick up their trail again.” John explains. 

“If you’re just going to be stuck on a base, I don’t need leave.” 

“That's if we’re lucky. If we’re not we could be shipped out somewhere else for a couple of months, things are getting dicey in Iraq from what I’ve heard.” He says. He puts the papers down, his hand comes to land on your shoulder. 

“Think about it tonight. I don’t need an answer till tomorrow. Talk to the others about it if you want. I think it would be good for you though. You need a rest after everything you’ve been though.” He squeezes your shoulder and you look back down at your missing nails. 

“I scared if I slow down it gets worse.” You admit. His other hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him. 

“It probably will, but you’ll be safe you’ll have Johnny and we’ll be close by.” He says. 

“If you’re lucky.” You scoff. He smiles and plants a quick kiss on your lips. 

“I think we’ll be lucky.” He says, you nod and smile at him. He picks the papers back up and hands them both to you pressing one last kiss on your forehead. You look down at them in your hand as you leave the room. You don’t want to leave but maybe it’s for the best, you don’t want to get into a position where people get hurt because of you. 

You love them and they only want what's best for you, even if that's the opposite of what you want. You close your eyes leaning back against John's door. What's the worst that could happen if you take a month off with Johnny, you end up playing nursemaid? At least it will give you something to do.

Whatever you pick it’s going to be what's best for them, because thats what you do for the people you love, and the people who saved you.

next

Banners by plum98

[buckysouvenir]

a war of secrets, chapter 5: a line in the sand 1940s bucky barnes x y/n In the chaos of World War II, Y/N thought she had left her past behind—until a cocky, charming sergeant named Bucky Barnes shattered the walls she built. As their missions grow more dangerous, so do the feelings neither of them can admit. But secrets have a way of surfacing, and when Y/N’s past threatens to destroy the fragile peace she’s found, Bucky refuses to let her fight alone. last chapter | a war of secrets masterlist | next chapter

The snow was coming down hard. Thick, blinding sheets of white turned the forest into a maze of shadows and half-seen threats. But it wasn’t the cold that made Y/N’s pulse thunder in her ears—it was the sound of Bucky’s voice over the comm.

“Fall back. That’s an order!”

“Not without you,” she snapped, moving faster through the underbrush. Her side burned from an earlier graze, but she ignored it. Pain was nothing new.

A distant explosion rattled the ground beneath her boots. The mission had gone sideways—HYDRA operatives hidden in the convoy had ambushed them on the mountain pass. The Commandos were already extracting the civilians, but Bucky?

He was still out there. Alone.

Y/N adjusted her grip on the stolen HYDRA rifle and scanned the ridgeline. Movement—three figures closing in on a crumpled form near the treeline. Her stomach twisted.

“Barnes, you copy?” No answer.

Damn it.

She didn’t think. She just moved.

A flash of red lasers cut through the snow as the HYDRA agents took aim. She sprinted toward them, breath sharp and tight as she dropped to one knee and fired. The first man fell instantly—a clean shot between the ribs. The second turned, too slow, and she took him down with a brutal sweep of her knife.

The third raised his weapon—

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She lunged, slamming into him just as the trigger pulled. Heat bloomed in her side, sharp and searing, but the pain barely registered. With a feral twist, she drove her blade into his throat and let his body drop.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Barnes?” Her voice cracked.

A low groan answered her. She turned, heart hammering against her ribs, and there he was—slumped against a tree, blood streaking his temple.

“Hey, stay with me.” Y/N dropped to her knees beside him, fingers ghosting over the gash above his brow. His breathing was ragged but steady—thank God.

He blinked up at her, lips curling into a weak smirk. “Thought I told you to fall back.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Her hands shook as she tugged a bandage from her belt, pressing it against his wound. “You really gotta work on saying ‘thank you’.”

His laugh was soft—hoarse—but it made something twist inside her. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only when it comes to you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

His smile faded. For one sharp, breathless moment, the world shrank to the space between them—his gaze heavy on hers, something unreadable flickering behind those storm-blue eyes.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice was rough.

Y/N barely registered the warmth pooling beneath her jacket until his hand brushed against her ribs. Pain flared, hot and immediate, and she flinched.

“It’s nothing,” she lied.

“Don’t do that.” His fingers tightened against her waist—gentler than they should’ve been. “Don’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

There was something dangerous in his voice. Something that made her throat tighten.

“We need to move,” she said, forcing herself to focus. “HYDRA’s not done.”

“Neither are you,” Bucky shot back. But even as he argued, he leaned into her touch—like some stubborn part of him knew he could trust her, even if he didn’t want to.

Together, they staggered to their feet. And as the snow kept falling, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that some invisible line had just been crossed—one neither of them could come back from.

The pain worsened by the time they reached the safe house.

Y/N tried to hide it, biting down every wince and hiss, but Bucky wasn’t stupid. The second the door shut behind them, he spun on her—his jaw tight with frustration.

“Take it off,” he ordered, nodding to her bloodied jacket.

“I’m fine,” she argued.

“You’re bleeding through your damn shirt. Sit down.”

She should’ve fought him harder. But the adrenaline was fading fast, leaving her limbs heavy and her defenses weaker than she liked. So, she sank onto the edge of a rickety cot as Bucky knelt in front of her.

His fingers—rough, calloused—worked the buttons of her jacket loose, revealing the torn fabric beneath. His breath hitched slightly when he peeled the shirt away from her side.

“Hell,” he muttered. “You took a bullet for me.”

Y/N huffed out a humorless laugh. “What, thought I’d let HYDRA keep you?”

He didn’t smile. Instead, he grabbed the med kit, jaw clenched tight as he cleaned the wound. His hands were steady—too steady—but the air between them buzzed with tension.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I did.”

The words hung there, heavy and fragile, daring either of them to shatter the silence.

Y/N should’ve stopped. She should’ve pulled back, rebuilt the walls she had spent years perfecting. But something in the way Bucky looked at her—raw, conflicted—made it impossible.

“I couldn’t lose you,” she admitted. The truth burned on her tongue. “Not you.”

His breath caught. For a moment, he just stared at her—like he was seeing her for the first time. “Why?”

The question sliced through her like a knife.

Because I’m falling for you. Because I’m an idiot. Because if I let myself care, it’ll destroy me.

But instead, she said, “You’re one of the good ones, Barnes.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t feel like one.”

“You are to me.”

It wasn’t enough. God, she wanted to tell him everything—to rip down the walls between them and let him see the part of her that still ached for him. But attachments meant weakness. And weakness got people killed.

So she swallowed the words and dropped her gaze. “You’re patched up,” she said softly, pulling her shirt back over the bandage. “Get some rest.”

Bucky didn’t move. His hand lingered on her waist, warmth bleeding through the thin fabric. For a heartbeat, she thought he might close the distance—might finally let himself see her the way she saw him.

But then, just as quickly, he pulled back.

“Right.” His voice was rough, unreadable. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

And as he turned away, Y/N felt it—the ache of everything left unsaid settling deep into her bones.

A line had been drawn between them tonight.

And she didn’t know if either of them would survive crossing it.

#taglist: @pickuptruck01 @addie192 @ronjantz @fan4astic

[farsight-the-char]

Heretic Naval Raiders

The Heretic Fleet maintains naval supremacy on the majority of the Seven Seas: only in the Mediterranean do the Faithful strive to maintain some parity in order to ensure the supply of New Antioch. But elsewhere, the Heretic Naval Raiders are an ever present menace to shipping lanes and coastal communities. Commanded by the High Captains, the power of the Heretic Fleet is three-fold. First, there are the Behemoth Capital Ships, built in mockery of the Ark that God once bade Noah to construct. These are enormous capital ships, floating cities that act as mobile bases for fast strike craft and the insidious submarines that prowl the shipping lanes and ambush military convoys. For land operations the fleets employ their infamous Naval Raiding Parties as marine infantry. Naval Raiders’ armour is modified to double as diving suits, allowing entire strike teams to infiltrate the shoreline batteries or harbour defences undetected. The diving cylinders of the Naval Anointed (such as one shown here) hold oxygen mixed with unnatural fumes from the Lake of Fire, providing up to sixty-six hours of breathable gas and bestowing a high degree of resistance to decompression sickness. Thus they can stay submerged for extended periods of time, gathering large infantry strike forces undetected right at the enemy shores.

The Heretic Naval Raiders rarely have problems in finding fresh recruits: several mighty nobles of Hell lay claim over the Seven Seas attracting many of their worshippers to the fleets, and there is plentiful loot, as well as many chances for promotion and finding favour in the eyes of their infernal overlords through deeds of wanton murder - despoiling the places where saints once spread the faith of the Tyrant-God the Heretics hate with white-hot rage. A favourite tactic of the Naval Raiders is to sneak upon their target in the cover of night, striking at dawn in honour of the Morningstar. This serves the dual purpose of taking the enemies when they are at their most vulnerable, as well as a blasphemous ritual in honour of the throne that the Infernal Lords one day wish to erect on Mount Zaphon after toppling the seat of YHWH.

[brokenpieces-72]

Oh my gosh, I loved your spin on the 141 taskforce and Mash 4077 piece! That was so good! I was giggling with the Mash references too 😂 I would love to see another Mash piece, maybe something on the lines of where "bird-eye"(😉) gets slightly hurt, concussion or something while coming back to the Mash unit and 141 finds her?? Please and thank you! 😇

I wasn’t expecting anyone to make a request for this but I’m very happy you did! Also, not sure if your meant slightly or severly hurt, because concussion and slightly hurt I would say are two very different things.

Birdeye Down

CW: mentions of death, violence, medical inaccuracies, mental health inaccuracies, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Bird groaned in the ditch she'd taken cover in. Fuck, she needed to get up. Get a radio, make a call. Get help. Something. Bird hauled her self out of the ditch to check the wreckage. Vehicles were over turned, and scattered like a toddler had run through a set up of toy soldiers. She was fortunate to make it under the bed. There were still enemy units wandering and lazily inspecting their disasterous work.

As soon as one of them turned their head, Bailey dropped herself back to ground, eyes shut. Playing dead was her best shot at survival. She could almost hear her grandfather smiling at the irony. Thankfully none of them came closer to her position, at least she didn't think so. Bird didn't hear footsteps, so she forced her eyes back open. God it hurt to breath. Likely a broken rib...or five. Her throat was dry and sore from laying in the dirt and dust. Her uniform had been torn up by broken glass and bullets grazing. There was a pounding in her head, and her eyes kept trying to shut on her. All of which had been pacthed up by dirt and grime.

Bird Eye snuck a peek hearing transmission static. There was someone on the radio. A loud bang and a flash of light and Bird ducked her head again. Fuck, not even a word of good bye. Bird hated waiting, she'd been waiting for a discharge forever. Wouldn't get a chance for that. Shit she hadn't gotten her mail yet either. Took how long for her to get a new pair of boots. Not death though. Death wanted to expedite their appointments, and this one was personal.

Bailey slipped in and out of consciousness, pulling herself back before she could slip too far. The enemy units were some distance now. If she got up, which her body seemed to be highly against then she would be going in blind. There weren't any soldiers close neough with intact radios. Even then, they would hear it. Wouldn't get enough time to even say good bye.

All she could do was wait. Bird hated every second. Bird was in pain every second.

Price loaded into the vehicle with the 141, and sped down the dirt road. Alex had a couple of medics in another vehicle, with Farah scouting ahead of the small convoy.

"Captain. I've located the wreckage." Farah radioed.

"Less than a click out Kilo." Price called backl. When they arrived, the vehicles were parked, and every man exited with caution while Farah dismounted her bike.

Everyone was scoping around, staying low in case someone dareed to cross Task Force 141. Alex split off with two others and Farah, while Price pressed on with his men. Alex recalled the last time he'd come across a mess like this. At least he wasn't a victim this time. He circled the vehicles and found several men shot and even the one that had tried to radio them for help. A gun shot was all they needed to hear to come.

"Gaz, check em." Price said finding a few men on the ground. Soap and Ghost were at the rear scanning for any squirters. Gaz didn't find any life.

"Nothing sir." Gaz reported. Price radioed Alex. "Echo, anything on your side."

"No signs of life Bravo." Alex reported. Not even a minute passed before the 141 heard shouting on the other side of the danger zone. Then gun fire.

"Soap, Ghost, watch for squirters. Gaz with me." Price ordered. Soap and Ghost kept watch, Ghost nailing a squirter before Price and Gaz got a few feet away. Farah didn't hesitate to come out and grab for a runner, pinning him to the ground. Before she could fire on the other one, Price stepped in, firing into the spine. Farah knocked out the one she'd pinned, while Alex pressed forward, checking the damages. Gaz gave her a zip tie for their unconscious captive.

Price reported the status of the situation. No more squirters, or enemy units. They didn't know what exactly had happened. Only that the convoy was on it's way back from an aidstation. There were still some wounded in the back of one of the trucks. Not many, and another truck was on the way. Price radioed as soon as the captive was restrained.

Soap lowered his gun, following Ghosts lead, checking the vehicles for survivors. A couple. Not many, and not awake. Ghost kept watch while Soap got their bleeding to stop, and tried to wake them. Ghost noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. "Soap we got another one."

Soap eased his way out of the crashed jeep coming over. He recognized the uniform, cursing. A medic. Smart enough to get away so they weren't killed. If only the medic could help them with the wounded they had. Soap approached cautiously, checking quickly for any other threats. Ghost stood posted up. Soap checked the medic's pulse. Weak but still there. "My name is Soap, can you hear me?"

"Y....yeah... no cpr... ribs are broken enough..." The medic said. Soap paused for only a moment as he recognized the weak voice.

"Steamin jesus." Soap breathed, before talking into the radio. “Ghost it’s Bird.”

Ghost called it in immediately, as Soap got to work right away on Bird’s injuries. Couldn’t remove anything yet, the glass could have severed something. There was some blood on her head, just from a cut. Her leg was badly damaged. “Alright stay with us Bonnie.”

Soap ignored the sound of a vehicle approaching, focusing on getting Bailey into the clear. It wouldn’t be precise, but it would be enough. Enough to get her there. Soap got her wounds cleaned, and disinfected. Bailey’s body flinched at the stinging of the alcohol. “Mother…”

“Easy bonnie. We’re gonna get you out of this.” Soap said. Bailey was holding his arm, moving to his leg if he had to pull away. Kyle came over offering assistance. He cradled Bird’s head in his lap, keeping her still so she wouldn’t fight against the alcohol.

“Hey Bird. Fly the wrong way?” Kyle said trying to keep the mood up. Bailey gave him a smile while he kept a finger on her pulse. “Keep your eyes open.”

Bailey kept smiling but her eyes were drifting. Sleep. Rest was good medicine. Kyle started to panic, but maintained his composure trying to get Bird to wake up. “Soap she passed out.”

Soap looked up from what he was doing and cursed. “She needs medical attention, proper attention.”

Soap stood up, and picked up Bailey. He carried her to jeep, her body thankfully light and unfortunately limp. Ghost got into the passenger seat with Price taking notice and getting to the drivers seat. Farah took off ahead on her bike to make sure the route was clear. Alex stayed behind for when the ambulance arrived.

When they got to the MASH unit Tracker burst out of his tent chasing after them, and took Bailey from Soap’s arms, carrying her into the OR. Soap gave him everything he understood about her injuries as he went with Tracker towards the OR. Soap stopped himself at the door look back at his team. They stood there, for a moment, a silent prayer of hope among all of them before Price ordered everyone to return to the site. They would need help.

Soap jogged over to the jeep. Their minds focused on the objective, but lingering in the back of it was Bailey and her condition.

When they returned to the compound, the Major tried to give them lip, but as soon as Ghost stepped forward, lurking behind Price like a shadow, Borne backed off.

The corporal came up to them right away. “Uh sirs and uh… ma’am. If you don’t mind, you’re needed in the mess tent.”

“What for?” Farah asked.

“We really need some blood, I’ve been calling around but no one has any.” The corporal pleaded.

“Take as much as you can fill.” Gaz offered.

“Don’t have any plans tonight.” Alex added.

“Also. Tracker wanted me to tell you that Captain Bailey will pull through.” The corporal said. The team was relieved as they headed to the tent. Right now they were too tired and distracted to do much else. Once again the chaplain gave them a warm welcome before sitting them down for their blood donation.

Bailey was resting in post op with Tracker close by keeping watch over her. Price stepped inside, a bandage on his arm where his blood had been drawn.

“How is she?” Price asked.

“Sleeping right now. Should wake up before dinner.” Tracker said. He reached out and stroked her uncut cheek. Her mouth twitched into a hint of a smile. Her eyes started to flutter open.

“You keep doing that my wife will get upset.” She muttered.

“Hi honey, it’s your work husband.”

“Don’t have a husband… call the army.” Bird joked.

“Morning captain.” Price said.

“The Union Jack himself comes to greet me?” Bailey said, slowly sitting herself up. Tracker was quick to get her another pillow behind her. “Or is the queen in town?”

“Captain, would the boys be able to come in and see her? Farah has been pacing about Bird for a while.” Price asked Tracker.

“No problem with me.” Tracker said, looking to Bird. Bird gave a nod, consenting to their visit. Price started to walk out but Bird called after him.

“Captain… how many made it back?” Bird asked.

“8 causalities. The rest of the wounded made it.” Price told her. Bailey nodded and Price stepped out.

The team stayed in the compound for a while, trying to help around the compound, assisting as much as they could. They even went through some medical training to brush up on a few things. In that time there were many encounters with Captain BirdEye and the 141.

Bird had to write a report about what happened, alongside the rest of the survivors from what they could remember. Most of them didn't see much, playing dead in hopes they would be left alone by the enemy. Bird overhearing the attackers inspecting the wreckage was the only thing they had to go on. They were speaking Russian, at least what sounded like Russian to Bailey. As Corporal Echo wrote the report, with Price present in the room Bailey seemed visibly tired. Price half expected her to pass out right there in the chair.

"They hit the vehicles and... I went forward and then side ways, the glass broke. The vehicle flipped and... I just heard noises, I didn't even think, just started to hit the windshield. Had to force myself out of the seat belt, crawled out. Didn't get rid of the glass enough so it cut me. All I could see was the ditch, and I... I ran for it. That's what I was told in training... felt like a pool ball just hitting against vehicle after vehicle to take cover. The ditch had broken glass from the vehicles and rocks... my head... it was just pounding. I think my leg screamed at me..."

Price had seen Bailey's expression before, a thousand yard stare at the wall or floor, fidgeting and picking at her hands, clearing her throat and taking the time to remember what she saw. Echo kept writing, asking Bird to repeat a few things. Bailey sat up straight to address the corporal directly. Price was leaning against a filing cabinet, arms folded, boonie hat set on top of the cabinet. His vest was off, but nearby and a side arm in his belt.

"What happened next?" Echo asked Bailey.

"I uh... I don't know how long I was in that ditch, but... I tried to get out but there were some guys still there... I'm a medic, I'm supposed to call for help... no um..." Bailey bowed her head, biting her lips, and clenching her hands. "No radio..."

"We can stop Bird." Echo said. "They're already dealing with the prisoner."

Bird just nodded absently. Price pushed himself off the cabinet and approached Bird, offering her a hand up. "Post Op?"

"A drink... dryer than a desert, strong enough to make my liver kick me." Bird said. Price could help with that.

"There's a nurse insisting on giving you some meds, I'll collect you there." Price said, handing Bailey off to a nurse just outside the building. Price then turned to the corporal. "Who is running the interrogation?"

"Oh uh, Major Borne sir." Echo said. Price was in disbelief, surely they could get someone else to do it. "Where can I find the prisoner?"

"Not supposed to say sir it;s classified." Echo said, nervously. Price came closer to the young soldier, keeping his voice low.

"Find out when the prisoner is to be transferred." Price said with Echo repeating him almost word for word before finishing with a yes sir. Farah would probably want a couple rounds with the prisoner as well.

Farah and Bird talked quite a bit. Farah didn’t have much of an influence on their healthcare system but if Bailey could do some training with the ULF she would be grateful. “Certainly need it with the quality of care around here.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Farah said, walking beside Bailey, offering her arm for balance.

“If you want a place to start that isn’t infested by the likes of Borne, there a small orphanage run by an American nurse. Helps a great deal of women and children, she can certainly whip the stubbornest into shape.”

“That so?”

“Have them wailing like rented mules but fingers like a pianist.” Bailey told her, making Farah smile.

Alex met up with the two ladies in the mess tent. He offered to pop up there to meet with her, get a head start.

“Take Borne with ya, he could use a good a whippin. Might actually enjoy it.” Bailey offered.

“Will he be saying mother or mommy by the end of it?” Farah asked quietly leaning in with a mug to cover her shit eating grin. Bailey nearly choked on her water and Alex was snickering until Borne came in. He cleared his throat, but it didn’t stop either woman. Borne ignored them.

Soap seemed to be attached to Bird at the hip. If Bird needed assistance, Soap was close by. Gaz and Ghost sat back and watched as he was practically a puppy. In the mess tent he offered to get the captain another coffee or whatever the black liquidy stuff was. “Juice, I need more vitamins or whatever passes for it.”

“If I could get ya something stronger I would.” Soap said before leaving the table. Bailey smiled and then noticed Ghost and Gaz’s expression.

“What?” She asked. Ghost just returned to his water not wanting to drink something that tasted worse than motor oil.

“The leash and collar coming soon?” Gaz asked.

“The PX has it on back order.” Bailey said. Gaz smiled shaking his head.

“Just remember he eats more than you think.” Gaz said.

“Walk him three times a day.” Ghost added, making Bailey wince from laughter. Soap came back and sat down.

“Thank you suds, cleaning up nicely as always.”

“Oh ya got jokes now?” Soap asked. Bird just leaned against him for a moment getting a smile from Soap. Gaz and Ghost looked at each other before going back to whatever they were working on. Tracker who was sitting with all of them hummed the ending to the song Beauty and the Beast.

Ghost hovered around keeping Borne off his team’s back. He almost wondered what would happen if he didn’t wear his mask around Borne. Send him screaming maybe. Ghost wasn’t one for people but Bailey was an exception. Did her work well, refused to take time off, was still hovering in the operating room despite being unfit to work on anyone.

Ghost found himself wandering the compound on patrol duty. He didn’t mind the MASH unit nor the wounded. Surrounded by death for most of his life, seeing people make it out of the shit alive was a much more enjoyable time.

The nights he wasn’t patrolling, Bailey invited him for a cup of tea, and a small chat. Sometimes a game of cards. If anyone else on call or nightwatch needed a break they were invited in. Father Malcolm and Corporal Echo joined them one night, and Bailey showed the lieutenant how to play Schmear. It wasn't poker, but it was a pretty good game. Bailey wiped the floor with whoever she was against.

"The lord has blessed you in mysterious ways." Father Malcolm commented one night. Bailey didn't say anything, instead shrugged.

"What's the trump suit again?" Echo asked. Ghost held up the low card for him to see the suit. Hearts. Echo gave a nod, before Ghost pushed the corporal's hands and cards closer to his chest so Ghost didn't see them. "Sorry."

Echo played a 7 in trump, Bailey an 8 in clubs, Malcolm put down a jack in trump, and Ghost finished with a queen in trump, winning the hand. Echo sighed, thinking he had that hand. Ghost played a 2 in spades, Echo finished with a queen in spades, Bailey revealed she had the King of hearts and Malcolm sighed playing his ace of clubs. Bailey smiled, pleased with her bid of three points, writing down the points. "Another game gentleman? Night is still young."

"It's 3 in the morning." Ghost said. Bailey continued to shuffle the cards.

"Well then the night is in labour." Bailey said, chopping the deck in her hands. Malcolm excused himself for some sleep before morning prayers and Echo had to finish writing his report. They left Bailey and Ghosty alone in the tent. After splitting the deck Bailey shuffled, and went to bridge the cards. Her hand slipped and the cards flew out from her hands. Ghost didn't flinch but caught a couple of cards, as Bailey slammed her hand on the table frustrated with herself. What remains she had of the deck were smacked on to the table, before rubbing her face in her hands. Ghost was familiar with the reaction but let her calm down.

"You should get some sleep." Ghost told her.

"I've gotten enough sleep. I'm bored of sleep, got no dreams to occupy it. No handsome men or pretty girls to make it interesting." Bailey said, gathering up the cards that had spilled on to the table. Ghost didn't mind reaching under to get the ones that had fallen on the floor. When he came back up he found the deck in her hands and Bailey sighing. Was she fighting back tears? Dark circles were hard to make out in the low light, but he could see them.

Ghost took the deck from her, shuffling. He was going to go back to his bed but how many people say they're bored of sleep? Bailey had found him at midnight and asked about a game of cards, so she'd gotten a little sleep at least. Tracker had a shift in post op, leaving their tent empty except for Borne. As he shuffled he noticed Bailey pawing at her eyes.

"What you have is normal." He told her dealing the cards. Bailey just nodded. "Should talk to a psychiatrist though."

"Taking advice from the guy who wears a balaclava 24/7." Bailey said looking at her cards. "Usually there's more booze involved."

"More smart ass comments and sarcasm." Ghost said.

"It's a second language for me. I'm fine, I'll bounce back." Bailey argued. "Why do you wear a mask? Just to hide your face?"

“Just too good looking for you to handle.” Ghost teased. Bailey smiled.

Gaz got to sit in on the interrogation. God Borne was shit. He’d seen better questioning from a rookie to a serial killer. Borne pulled rank so much, Kyle wanted to take Borne's chest candy and shove it down his throat. At least he could put his rank where his mouth was. Kyle was leaning back against the wall while Borne repeated the same questions. The Major definitely wouldn't like his methods of interrogation. Kyle was about to make an example out of Borne when there was a hard pounding on the door. The Majhor straightened and Kyle opened the door, despite Borne's protest.

"Orders from HQ sir." Echo said, walking in. Captain Price was right behind him, stepping inside.

"What orders?" Borne demanded, swiping the papers from the corporal. Borne looked over the documents and looked at Echo. "You think this is funny corporal?"

"No sir! They're from the Central Intelligence Agency." Echo said. Borne looked over the papers again. "That's the CIA."

"I know what it means!" Borne snapped. Borne looked between Gaz and Price before storming out. Kyle had seen plenty of pissed off people in his time, but no one as animated or cartoonish as Borne. Kyle hid his smile, peering around the door to see Borne still fuming.

"Corporal who exactly gave you those orders?" Kyle asked, shutting the door. The corporal adjusted his glasses, and cleared his throat.

"Uh..." Echo looked at the Konni soldier, who Price was now standing over, nudging him. Echo went over to Kyle, gesturing for Kyle to lower himself, so he could whisper. "Section Chief Laswell."

Kyle had to bite back his grin. "Thanks Corporal. You better run, this will be kind of ugly."

"Yes sirs." Echo said, before scurrying out of the room. Kyle looked over to Price hearing knuckles being cracked.

"Now... let's wake him up." Price said.

Kyle went to post op, where he found Bailey doing some rounds with a small limp. Farah and Alex offered assistance to the other nurses and doctors, translating for their patients. Kyle waited off to the side until they weren't occupied. It took some time, to the point Kyle could recline on a cot until a nurse butted him out for taking up space. Alex came over to him to chat for a bit.

Tracker came in and went over to Bailey, putting a hand on her shoulder. She was sitting on a cot with a wounded soldier, looking over his vitals. Tracker helped Bailey to her feet, and came over to the two men while Farah continued to translate for Tracker. Bailey had a hand in her pocket as she came over.

"Gentlemen if you're looking for a new mattress I could recommend much better locations." Bailey said.

"How's the leg?" Gaz asked.

"A few nurses are calling me House instead of Bird." Bailey replied. "All I'm missing is a cane and a sex change. What can I do you for? 20 bucks?"

"We talked to the Konni soldier." Kyle said quietly. Bailey ushered Kyle out. Alex intended to hear more about it later. A nurse was asking for help with another patient. Outside post op Bailey told Kyle to continue.

"It was an easy target, plenty of wounded, little to no resistance, reduce a few numbers, even plant evidence to make it look like it was AQ." Kyle explained.

"An easy target." Bailey said, pacing awkwardly with her leg. The doctor stared at the ground as she walked. An easy fucking target, that's what they were. A chance to make an example. Bailey felt sick and disgusted. Out of all the people in the convoy that were able bodied, she was probably the only one who hadn't been armed. Bailey look up at on of the parked trucks, seeing the same wounded soldier, sitting, and trying to radio for help. His hand reached the button, and he had maybe five seconds to get help. Bailey flinched hearing a gun shot and the soldier falling to the ground. It replayed. And then again. And then again. Each time she tried remember what the soldier had on his person, but she couldn't remember the gun.

Bailey gave up, rubbing her eyes and pacing back to Kyle. She was fighting to stay calm, but the lump in her throat was overwhelming and every time she blinked, tears fell. Kyle stood there as Bailey sighed, her voice broken with emotion. "An easy fucking target..."

Kyle didn't hesitate, to hug Bailey. It took a different kind of person to make it through a place like this. Bailey was still fighting the number of feelings she had. The hug made it a struggle, but if Kyle didn't hold her, not even she knew what her next step would be. Right now she needed to be grounded, given a chance to regain some senses. Fucking hell, how did her grandfather ever manage this?

"Orders for me Captain?" Kyle asked. At first Bailey thought he was talking to Price, and straightened. Bailey turned to wipe the tears away and looked around. Then she realized Kyle was talking to her.

"... A drink... and a pen and paper." Bailey ordered, taking his arm. Kyle took her back to the Swamp. Bailey started writing to her grandfather.

Bird was still awake, still writing and still drinking. Water, this time. She needed to deal with her pain, and she couldn't do that intoxicated. Not the way she wanted. Bailey was writing to her grandfather, hoping he might have some snarky words of wisdom from his own experience. The doctor winced, dropping her pen once she finished her sentence.

Price sat down across from her while she took a sip. He set down mug.

"Coffee?" Bailey inquired.

"Yeah well, I'm a long way from a proper pint." Price said.

"Could add a shot of rubbing alcohol. Might reduce the oily death taste." Bird suggested, sipping her water, and stretching her hand.

"Want help or is it intimate?" Price asked.

"Letter to my grandfather. Need someone to tell me how to deal with this." Bailey admitted, picking up the pen again. "Someone whose heart isn't made of brass. Ah."

Bailey dropped her pen wincing. Her wrist needed more time to relax. Price glanced at the letter and made out enough of her chicken scratch to get an idea of the letter's content. Bailey sighed, taking another sip of water. "When is your departure?"

"Day after tomorrow." Price answered. "You've convinced the commander to get more of her forces to assist with translations."

"If Borne isn't manning border control." Bailey said, setting down her mug. "Price, can I be fully blunt with you?"

"You're asking first." Price said. "It must be serious."

"The past few days have been nothing but self loathing, drinking, painkillers, and trying to control a rollercoaster of optimism and pessimism all while realism is threatening to break down the door. I'm bordering on stable and psychopathic. I want to storm into the nearest Konni Base filled with rage, while telling myself I'll leave full of lead. The only thing keeping me here is a still healing limp, the endless opportunities to fuck with Borne, and... and the convoy." Bailey said taking another drink. The luke warm liquid was admittedly soothing against her dry throat.

"You want to see the world burn to the ground, while wanting to put it out." Price clarified. He was spot on.

"The kid that radioed for help. I saw him. I could've gone to him, could have run out to another soldier and take their radio to call for help, could have given myself up and hope for mercy. Since Kyle told me why we were hit I keep thinking about getting a gun. That's the last thing I want to do, it was the one thing I didn't want since coming here." Bailey confessed. "Yet you go through all kinds of shit, every day, with more than a gun, and you're able to stomach that crap in your mug. Literally and figuratively. I don't get it."

"We get dirty, and the world stays clean." Price said. "I've dealt with a lot of shit, and learned a lot. Killed plenty of people, that's my job. Your job is to put them back together. You take an oath to do no unnecessary harm, and you live up to it. Don't lose your loyalty to it, because you'd make a shit soldier."

Bailey chuckled and pawed at her eye. "I needed that."

"You're doing good work, don't change that. The reality is, if you weren't holding on, in a ditch and out of sight, there's a much higher chance you would be dead right now, and the world would lose a fine surgeon and doctor, with many wounded following behind." Price told her.

"Needed to hear that too." Bailey said softly. She took a moment to fully process what was said, before glancing at her letter. What she wanted to say, had been said. The rest could wait until tomorrow. Bailey tore a fresh sheet from the pad of paper and set it down. "Can I interest you in some cards Captain?"

Price smiled. "Sure. You shuffle, I'll get myself something to wash this shit out of my system."

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf

[t1me-v0rt3x]

what the fuck is going on in the Time Monster???

allow me to list (i might miss things)

the doctor having a dream that the master returns

the Brigadier calling him insane

the Brigadier essentially kidnapping benton who was looking forward to two days off to watch some demonstration

the master so happens to be the professor doing the demonstration

the doctor detects the master's time fuckery and goes to follow it

silly sped up footage of bessie going speedy

realising the time fuckery is where the Brigadier and benton is

super aging of stu

time go stop in some area

some medieval guy on a horse with a spear goes to attack captain Yates and his convoy

Yates tells the Brigadier who asks if he's drunk

some guys with cannons suddenly start firing cannon balls at them

Yates again tells the Brigadier

Brigadier then goes to check

is then stopped on the way by the sound of a V1 bomb from 1944

Brigadier tells Yates over radio

Yates doenst hear until too late

bomb explodes

Brigadier calls Captain Yates, Mike over the radio (SPOOKY)

captain Yates is mostly fine considering

upon return time stops in that area again and won't return when machine turned off

the doctor's TARDIS in the master's TARDIS while the master's TARDIS is also in the doctor's TARDIS at the same time

benton points gun at master many times

master runs off with high priest from atlantis in his TARDIS which the doctor's TARDIS is still in

fuckery with machine turns Sargent Benton into a baby

master tries to throw doctor into time vortex

success

the TARDIS being the amazing thing she is finds away to get him back

jo helps

master tries to convince atlantis that he comes from the gods

king doenst believe him

master flirts with queen and wins her favor

doctor shows up and the king likes him

master tries to control Kronos

master is arrested by Queen for killing the king

Kronos is put away

master kidnapps Jo and doctor follows

doctor threatens to kill all three of them

master is right to call his bluff

jo does it

she thinks they are dead

Kronos appears im rainbow area

Kronos helps doctor and jo live then says she's going to torment the master

master casually drops to his knees shouting no then BEGS the doctor to help him

doctor helps him

master essentially goes fuck you and runs off in his TARDIS

BENTON IS STILL A BABY

that's not all since i haven't fully finished yet BUT WHAT THE HELL