(Still a WIP, but I have reached a point where I can't leave a bit alone until it's posted somewhere and it's terrible brain times besides.)
Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - nod and smile
Robbie isn’t feeling well.
He has no idea what is being said in the meeting. He really needs to focus; for all he knows, Brook is outlining all the ways he’s to be summarily executed for fucking up his first deployment. You’re fine. He’s not. He feels like he’s been hollowed out and can’t stay still, like every single one of his nerve endings is on fire. It’s like—like you’re bored in a fucking meeting. Big deal.
He can’t look at the slides Brooks is using to illustrate his points, the bright white background making his bad eye feel like it’s being punctured by a thousand tiny needles. He can’t not look – this is important. I’ve got it, the voice says. It sounds more confident than Robbie thinks he’s capable of even under more favourable circumstances. Lay back and let me handle the big boy stuff, yeah?
“—loses consciousness, if you please”
Ivanov looks at him like he knows he’s losing more than that. It’s probably obvious to everyone in the room. He passed out halfway through his post-drift scan, and the nurses left him to rest until it was too late to pick Gabe up. Then there was a check-up – he was sure they will see something, that the moment he puts the EEG on Cho will know he’s fine. There was nothing wrong with your scan. People are looking, say something.
“Sorry.” His throat feels raw. When he looks back down to the table, he realises he’s picked the label clean off the bottle. God, he wants to get out of here. He needs to be alone for five minutes, he needs—Did you see his face? Oh, this is precious. You’re freaking out the big bad Colonel.
He needs to be able to finish his own fucking thoughts. He can’t hear the difference now as clearly as he felt it through the drift – a hairline border between what’s him-him and the—the voice, but he's beginning to pick out where he’s not making any sense. Ivanov doesn’t look freaked out, he looks reasonably displeased that Robbie isn’t paying attention.
He waits for—something. A disagreement, the usual insistence that Ivanov is some kind of mob boss pointing a gun at him under the table. When nothing comes, it’s somehow even worse, because if it was constant, if it happened every time, he could at least learn to expect it. Waiting for the debrief to start, Robbie went through the drift compatibility diagnostics again – it's available online for hopeful academy cadets – and the mental health section. The doctor in psych eval told him that the gaps in his memory aren’t uncommon, that most of the recruits don’t tick all the boxes, that any of the serious stuff would likely have shown up in one of the dozens of brain scans he’s had. Surely, they’d have picked it up if he was—he doesn’t even know. Yeah, this kind of shit doesn’t show up overnight. You’re stressing yourself out for no reason.
No, he has a pretty good reason. If he doesn’t meet pilot threshold for anything unrelated to acquired injury, he will lose access to the family healthcare program, and the MS treatment he’s hoping to get for Gabe. He hasn’t even had the time to figure out how viable it is – back home, it was so far outside his budget the doctor mentioned it only to be clear how strict he needs to be about physiotherapy. If only dear mom didn’t fuck off like she did, you’d have had access to it all along. If—what?
“Mr Reyes is present to defend his choices, if he so wishes.”
Crap, he spaced out again. He shakes his head – he can’t exactly defend a choice he didn’t make. Would he have tried to block the demon anyway? Probably. Looking back, there weren’t any other options other than to watch it crash into the shore. He’s not going to lose any sleep over that– What was that about mom?
Nothing. His hands no longer feel like he needs to crack every joint over and over again. Ivanov watches him like he’s expecting him to faint.
“Well, we’re going nowhere fast,” one of the Eden Assassin’s pilots stretches in his seat. His sister elbows him in the side. “Ouch, what? Brooks would have notes for his mother’s cooking. The kid did okay and we killed the monster, hooray. Let the D-Sci figure out what the hell is going on with those scales, then we can talk.”
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you, but yes, thank you,” Cho raises an eyebrow at Brooks’ exasperated expression. He only shrinks a little when Captain Danvers pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s considering throwing them all out of the room.
Just like that, the debrief is over. Robbie hopes somebody took minutes, before he realises Major Brooks will definitely repeat every comment he made in training, to the word. He never thought he’d be grateful for the guy’s particular brand of crazy, but there’s a first time for everything. Unfortunately, his vague plan to escape the dome and spend the rest of the day watching cartoons with Gabe in their bunk shatters as soon as he follows everyone out of the conference room.
“You ran long,” says a young woman in an obviously expensive dress. She looks somewhat familiar, but Robbie can't recall seeing her around the base before - he hears one of the Summerses whisper ‘scatter!’, to her even more obvious satisfaction. “Don’t worry, Alex, you’re off the hook this time.”
Captain Danvers pats Robbie’s back. “Nod, smile and it will be over before you know it.”
“I–what?”
“Hi!” The young woman seems to materialise right in front of him, smiling in a way he can only describe as predatory. “I’m Kate. You’re about to be on TV.”
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