With Russell’s comment about him being ‘an awesome person’ still ringing in his ears, it gave Abelärd the hopeful boost confidence he needed to further push his twin, Aldous, into an even better mood. He still hoped his twin hadn’t come over to bicker with him. Or prank him.
After last year and the fiasco with the Krampus decoration, he really wasn’t in the mood for holiday based pranks. He didn’t think his poor old heart could take it.
Keep reading
Russell was no stranger to bickering brothers or pranks. He had grown up with seven of them after all. He just hoped things wouldn’t escalate and go too far in regards to any of that.
Then again, with the good mood Aldous seemed to be in, he doubted that would happen.
“Yep, I’m here,” Russell said, smiling a little. He had been about to answer that he was just paying a visit and ignore the comment that was made about Abel, but the BLU just shot right back at him.
He couldn’t help but smile a little bit at that. He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt them. If he had known that Abel was concerned about being somewhere at the same time as the both of them, he wouldn’t have known why.
He quietly chuckled, a subdued quiet laugh, when he heard that retort come from Abel. It had a good ring to it, even if he didn’t think that Abel was an asshole.
But then he noticed that Aldous had seen the cellophane parcel that he had delivered to Abel. He then saw that he was holding the one that he had delivered to him. His cheeks turned a little bit pink as he nodded.
“Yes, that was why I came,” he wondered if he had caused some potential offense at that. But then he smiled and nodded again, “Yeah, that sounds like a good way to look at it.”
He then fell into another brief silence as Abel explained that. He then decided to confirm what Abel had said. That seemed to be just what he was hoping for.
“That... that we’re family, and that we see each other as family,” he said, smiling, “I always saw you both as family, but I like, like, was a bit nervous about bringing it up in case you didn’t think the same way about it.”
He smiled once more.
“So I am real glad that you do.”
Maybe Aldous might deny it, but he honestly hoped he wouldn’t.
It had been so long.
It shouldn’t have been this long. He was only supposed to cover for a few weeks but there’d been trouble finding a suitable replacement for the Soldier that Jane had been sent to Ravine to fill in for, or so he’d been told. Still, it hadn’t been so bad at first. The sky was huge and wide and blue, the weather was always warm, and he would fly into it like a proud eagle. His kill stats were impressive- his boots found easy footing on the ground (after being used to slogging through snow, running on dry ground was like running through nothing) and the sun warmed his face as he rocket jumped from place to place.
But it was also lonely. His teammates were impressed at his skill but found him strange- a feeling familiar from long ago. Before he’d opened up and made friends. Before Abel.
He wrote Abel often. Once a week, sometimes more. He’d sent a box of desert glass for Hanukkah, thinking the pretty stones might inspire his artistic husband. But as the weeks and months passed, he didn’t get a single reply. And little by little, all the reasons for his husband’s silence began to chip away. No amount of business or getting sick or anything else could explain why Abel wasn’t writing him back.
He was left with three options. The mail just wasn’t getting through, Abel didn’t want to reply, or he couldn’t reply. The first reason was the most logical, so of course Jane dismissed it. The second he refused to believe point blank. Which left the third.
Was he hurt? Sick? Captured?
Dead?
Jane couldn’t stand it. He could bear it less and less until things finally broke. He stormed up to the base’s Administration and demanded to be transferred back, it was an emergency. Please let me go back.
Out of the question, he was told. BLU will not be left at a disadvantage at this base because you’re homesick, Soldier.
He tried to slip onto outgoing trains or even slip through the teleporter system, but he was always caught and reprimanded, and each time it just made Jane more and more desperate. Finally, there was only one conclusion. One thing to do. Any normal person would have told him it was an impossible conclusion, insane. But to Jane, there was no other possibility.
He packed up his rucksack with as many essentials as he could carry, put on his sturdiest boots. Filled a couple canteens with water and tucked his photo of Abel into his helmet.
And in the middle of the night. Jane Doe, BLU Soldier, American, and man in love, trekked out into the desert to find his way on foot from the New Mexico desert to the Swiss Alps.
The muffled voice came from behind the closed doors of the BLU infirmary. There was some sound from beyond them, from within the confines of the room itself; the subtle sounds of things being moved around.
When it was finally opened, Abelärd, one of the few BLU Medics of Coldfront, greeted him warmly. He was smiling, even though it was partially covered up by a surgical mask. He was wearing an apron and he had a particular smell about him. If Russell got close to him, he’d smell disinfectant and, quite possibly, bleach.
Seems the Medic was on his usual cleaning binges again.
“Russell! How good to see you!” Taking off his surgical mask, he properly gave the younger man a real, genuine smile. There was a certain amount of energy to him today– a zest for life, one might say. “I didn’t expect company. I’m sorry if it smells… strong in here. I was cleaning before the new year. A fresh new start for the new year!” Offering an apologetic chuckle at his cleaning ways, he added, “what can I do for you?”
Russell remained quiet for the moment. It sounded like the Medic was busy and he didn’t need to make him feel pressured to hurry just by talking. His voice would no doubt be recognised.
Russell stepped back, just to make sure Abel had plenty of space. He gave him a small smile back, despite his instincts forcing him to wonder just what was going on in there.
“Hey, Abel, it’s good to see you too,” he said. He nodded, but then he felt some relief. Cleaning. He was only cleaning, “Nah, no need to apologise, that sounds like a good thing.”
He then looked down at the cellophane parcel and held it out.
“I uh, I made some rugelach. It probably won’t be as good as yours, but with Hanukkah being like, rolling around and all, I wanted to make some for you and Aldous,” he said, “I uh, I just hope I’ve not been, uh, uh, like completely disrespectful by accident.”
(The following is a collabo between me and CuddlyMedics! Enjoy Jane being the world’s best, stupidest husband. And getting some unexpected help. :D)
----------
Something that Jane Doe had forgotten about his beloved America was how big its western desert was. It certainly hadn’t looked this big on his map (the one that’d conveniently enough been sitting right on his tray at the Speedee Burger). Not that he was complaining- he knew it would be a long trek to Coldfront. He just hadn’t considered it would be this long. He was certain that he should’ve been halfway there by now, and that he’d have Abel in his arms in no time.
But the Mojave was wide, barren and hot. His canteens had run dry long ago, his only respite from his thirst the occasional dust-ridden little town he’d come across that had a little water to spare. He’d remembered some trick about cactuses, but the spines stuck his fingers something awful before he managed to hack deep enough into one to get any decent amount of bitter juice.
What the desert lacked in moisture it made up for in snakes, scorpions, red ants and the occasional coyote- all of which seemed to be doing their best to make sure that the Soldier didn’t get that great of a night’s sleep. The night was cool at least, but so many bugs seemed to be interested in his sleeping bag at night that Jane was starting to forgo it. Unless he could find a fairly flat elevated rock to keep him off the ground.
It was hard going.
Something in him was wondering if this was a stupid, suicidal course of action. But then he thought of Abel. Abel, who may be dead or sick or hurt, whose letters never reached him, if they were sent at all. Jane had to get to him, and the thought of the Medic filled the Midwesterner with renewed resolve to go another day. But alas, even the most resolute, loyal and stupidly brave Soldiers are bound by the limits of human physiology.
And so, it was around the peak of the midday heat that Jane finally collapsed to the dry, cracked ground, mouth parched, vision blurry, and brain baking in the metal confines of his helmet. His fingers dug into the dirt, pulling himself along a few more feet. He thought he saw something in the wavery distance. He was even less sure, but he thought he saw something moving toward him. All he was really sure of was that he was likely never going to reach Abel now.
Stupid, he thought as the hot, bright world went dark on him. You’re so goddamn stupid.
But even as the bright world went dark on the Soldier, and all consciousness slipped away from him in a shimmery, hazy cloud of heat, indeed, something was making his way towards him. He wasn’t imagining things. It hadn’t been one of those ‘oasis hallucinations’ he had heard spoken about in the past. After all, the last thing he viewed before the darkness took over wasn’t of a cool, shimmering pond, where the inviting fronds of a palm tree swayed high above the giggling heads of half-naked desert maidens. Wasn’t that what hallucinations were? Cool ponds surrounded by sensual and sexy half-naked women? No. Well, yes, but no. This wasn’t that. This wasn’t anything of the sort.
“Now… what do we have here?”
It was silly to have ever considered such a thing. After all, cool, shimmering ponds and inviting palm trees didn’t talk.
“Is that--”
And, boy, it was a fact that hallucinated giggling, half-naked maidens typically didn’t have that kind of masculine voice.
“Naw. That couldn’t be. ...Could it?”
That was such a nice voice, though.
“It… it is! By the stars n’ stripes! Mr. Doe?”
That kind of masculine voice that rung out with a clear, crisp, southern lilt to it. No, no. That couldn’t be right.
But before the Soldier with heat stroke could even begin to recognize the voice, let alone the world around him, his body gave out on him. With his brain fried from the heat and his thoughts riddled with what remained of his cooked mind, he never truly understood the concept of being picked up and slung over someone’s shoulder, carried a-la-fireman-style, over to a place that had shelter, shade, food, water… and supplies. A place that, in all honesty, had he been aware of his surroundings… Jane Doe would have recognized in a heartbeat.
“Hey! Woody!”, the masculine voice with a clear, crisp, southern lilt to it broke the darkness, piercing the quiet of that nothingness. “Woody! We got a live one from the desert!”
The sound of gravel and pebbles crunching underfoot. The smell of old, rotting wood in the air. Of dust and heat, and that particular scent. Like hay and sunbaked peaches. Like sunlight and arid soil. And of course… beer. There was spilled beer nearby, soaking into the clay-baked earth.
The barely audible whisper of the wind through creaking, groaning structures. The lazy humdrum steady thrum of heat exposed bees, whirling and spiraling away from a shriveled up flower, following its own crooked path back to the hive. The smell of home. The sounds of home. The feeling… of a lot of mercenaries calling this base their first ‘home’.
Of Teufort.
Jane was in and out of consciousness for a few days. He’d mutter something unintelligible in his sleep, wake up screaming only to fall asleep again. He’d ask where he was, drink water like some wild man dying of thirst, succumb to exhaustion, only to wake up disoriented again. It was only on the fourth day that he seemed to rest and hydrate enough to finally get his bearings.
“...Will…?”
He hadn’t seen the younger Soldier in a dog’s age, and in spite of himself, Jane cracked a wide smile.
“Will, that’s you…? Jesus, I made it all the way to Teufort….”
“Aww, good. Yer awake.”
The bright eyed and bushy tailed man, by the name of ‘Will’, let out a huge sigh of relief. He had a friendly face and a truly affable smile. He oozed a sort of a saccharine honesty that one simply couldn’t help but warm up to him.
He hadn’t changed at all from the time Jane last saw him. He still had those baby blue eyes. He still had that dirty blond hair, a bit more carefree and loose in style compared to his old military-issued haircut. He still had his trademark helmet-- hung on the wall, at that very moment-- with the painted on peace symbol. And, of course, he still had those adorable dimples whenever he smiled that carefree, almost childlike smile of his. So full of innocence, so jolly and jovial in tone.
William Reed was a rather young soldier. At least, he was younger than Jane. He was also a bit taller than Jane, but not as built. Jane had known him for quite a long time, and though there were obvious similarities between the two, the biggest difference between them was the fact William had officially, and legally, been in the army.
William had served a few years in the wet, steamy jungles of Vietnam, the military issued victim of the dreaded draft. He had endured a good portion of it with nary a cut or bruise until one day his luck ran out. He lost control of his life during a particularly chaotic ambush where a mine exploded, and scalding, twisted shrapnel shredded his leg. He had lost a lot of blood before his allies and fellow soldiers could drag him off to safety.
His term spent over in ‘nam was done for, and the young, now disabled man had returned home.
Still desperate to make money for his family, he allowed himself to fall under the guile of MannCo’s job offering. Even with a damaged leg, they told him he could make himself... useful.
And so he had. The rest… was history. A history, thankfully, that Jane was privy enough to know of.
“Was jus’ beginning to worry, sir,” William honestly admitted to him. His voice rang soft and true, the thick Southern lilt of his accent almost comforting in its vernacular. It was like sweet southern honey, drizzled over everything he said. “You had us both worried. Up and began thinkin’ the desert heat done cooked yer brains half to mush. Like grits too long on the stovetop.”
The soldier pulled up a chair beside Jane and settled down into it. There it was: that same limp of his. His leg hadn’t gotten any better. If Jane had known any better, the limb might have seemed a bit stiffer, the leg a bit more favored.
“Now, now. Jus’ you relax. Don’t need you actually keelin’ over the moment you come ‘round.” Taking a bowl of room temperature water and a rag off of the bedside table, he dampened the cloth before he reached over and, with the gentlest of motions, wiped away any sweat from Jane’s forehead. “Got so many questions for ya, sir. So many. But I’m not sure where to even begin, if I may say so myself.”
Jane couldn’t help but smile, his own blue eyes crinkling at the corners. One hand reached to his side, looking for his helmet out of habit.
“Mmm, go ahead and ask away, son. But don’t worry, I won’t be in your hair very long. I need to get moving soon as I can. Got a long way to go yet.”
Wherever he’d been going, wherever he’d come from in such terrible condition, it seems that he was planning on pressing onward.
“Need to get movin’ again?” William murmured that under his breath to himself, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Jesus, though,” Jane continued, not hearing William mumble. “It’s so good to see you. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Will. How have you been? The leg looks a little stiff, there. Been bothering you much?”
There was no denying it. He was absolutely confused as to what was going on. “Er-- ah, well.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced down at his leg. He looked as if he were pondering its existence, or perhaps the limb’s use. Or maybe he was considering the fact that he did, in fact, have a leg. At least, that’s what his expression looked to portray. It was a bit vague for Jane. “My leg’s been iffy. Been doin’ a lot of jumpin’, sir. Lots of jumpin’. And it’s just been botherin’ me a bit. Especially with that surprise rainstorm we got a few nights back. Desert rain always lingers in my bones.”
William got up, and Jane could see the man move across the room to a chest of drawers. The piece of furniture looked beat up and worn. Maybe even nibbled on by mice. Yup. Those were teeth marks down at the very corner of the left leg.
Was this the soldier’s room? Sure seemed that way. It had a table and chair, and a dresser for clothes. It had a few hooks on the wall where a spare uniform jacket and a helmet hung, along with other such personal items. And there was a shelf there with a few books ranging from military tactics, to accounts of the war in vietnam to one that was, curiously enough, an intro into technology.
“Yeah, sir,” William continued. “I mean... if’fin ya don’t mind, sir, got a whole lotta questions to ask.” He slid a drawer open and rifled through it. He pulled out a shirt and examined it but, based upon his expression alone, after a thorough scrutinizing it must have been unfit for what he had in mind. He simply folded it back up and put it back where it came from. “I mean, like, what in the blue blazes were you doin’ out there all by yer lonesome? I mean, it’s not every day I get to talk again with my idol. Uh-- wait, I-- ”
William stuttered for a moment, clutching another shirt he had just pulled out so tightly he ended up wadding it in his grasp. He turned towards Jane, his cheeks obviously a bit tinted with the signs of a reddening blush.
“I--- I mean,” William began, tone a bit more rushed in his embarrassment, “here I thought ya went to another base, and you, uh… uh…” Unceremoniously stuffing the shirt back into the drawer, the soldier limped over to the open door and called out, “‘Ey! ‘Ey, Woody! Woody! He’s up! Up an’ awake! You wanna meet him?”
“Will. At ease. You’re wound up tighter than a goddamn Medic. Just… take a few breaths son. Now. You’re right. I was somewhere else. I’m at Coldfront, usually, but they put me up to fill in at Ravine. But the stint kept dragging on, and I didn’t get no letters back from Abel no matter how many I wrote. Something’s wrong, Will. I know something’s wrong. So I’m going back.”
One could only draw one conclusion. Jane Doe seemed hell bent on getting back to Coldfront. And if he’d walked all the way here from Ravine on foot… it seemed to be how he’d planned on making the entire journey.
“I didn’t mean to commandeer your quarters this long, son,” Jane added. “Just another night’s rest and I need to keep going.”
He didn’t comment on the ‘idol’ remark. It seemed to embarrass the younger Soldier that he’d let it slip out, and besides… at the end of the day, Jane knew he probably wasn’t the best role model.
Jane’s logic was never a sound, sane sort of thing. Everyone knew it. This particular soldier was loonier than a crate full of wildly excitable squirrels. It was a well known fact that his personal dossier (nestled within the confines of MannCo’s records) had each and every strange event, scenario, and situation that the man had ever been involved with painstakingly accounted for. And each account only got weirder and weirder with passing time. Weirder… and, of course, more and more unbelievable.
The bedridden soldier could see William pace back and forth a few steps. Four one way, turn. Four another way, turn. Repeat. A small pacing routine that involved slow, careful steps and an intense session of processing the information he was just given.
“Coldfront. Right. I know that base. Not the best thin’. Been there only once ‘fore. For a short, short stint. Like… a few weeks. Couldn’t handle it. The cold and, er…” Trailing off, he patted his bad leg, once. “Cold made my bones hurt too much. So they sent me back. Ended up here. Went from Sawmill, to Coldfront, to Teufort. Came here right when you were goin’ there, sir. Had to have.”
Footfalls creaked along the wooden floor as William made his way across the room to his table. Equally worn as the dresser, he leaned against it for support. Crossing his arms over his chest, Jane could see a frown beginning to etch on his face.
“And it’s no problem, sir. Really isn’t. Not usin’ my room much these days.” A smile formed at that, but, quickly, he mentally shook himself and got back on topic. “Brought you here. I was jus’ lucky I found ya. Was out doin’ practice jumps when I saw ya collapse. Would’a brought ya to the medbay, but I’m pret’y sure our docs wouldn’t want to treat a non-base worker. If ya know what I mean.” Shrugging, William looked over at his superior, confusion etched on his face. “But, uh… sir. Coldfront? That’s… hundreds a’ thousands a’... well, a lotta miles away. So far away that I’m fairly certain you would’a--”
“Yea, sugarloaf? He’s awake?”
Jane could see William’s eyes brighten as the younger soldier looked towards the door. There, standing in the welcoming entrance, was a rather plump looking man of short stature. Garbed in the uniform of an Engineer, he had the familiar, thick electrical gloves on his hands and the old fashioned coveralls associated with most of his kind. His goggles were pushed all the way up to his forehead, partially covering the bandana wrapped around his forehead in an attempt to keep the sweat out of his eyes. And his eyes? They were a soft brown. The color of milk chocolate. His black hair was short and styled, but just a little bit messy. ‘Hard hat’ messy.
“Oh, Woody!” Excitement coursing through him, William all but forgot, at least for the moment, the sheer absurdity of Mr. Doe’s hellbent, but incredibly foolish, escapade. “Honeybee, this is the soldier I was talkin’ about.” Gesturing towards the bedridden man, he added, “Jane, this is Elwood. Elwood, Jane.”
Jane sat up, making himself as presentable as possible. A proper Soldier must have some sense of decorum, after all. “Nice to meet you. Wish the circumstances were better.”
“Likewise, pardner,” the engineer replied. Quite the suave charmer, he hooked his thumbs in his belt and flashed Jane an unforgettable smile.
Jane grinned in spite of himself, sky-blue eyes glancing between the two of them. So, this must be love. They made a very handsome couple. If Jane had to say so objectively, the Engineer was a good looking man, in a different but very complimentary way to Will’s boyish good looks.
“I was just telling Will that I won’t be a bother much longer. Gotta make my way back to Coldfront soon as possible.”
The engineer had just run a hand through his hair to fix it, to appear more presentable himself, when Jane uttered that little statement of his. The engineer, Elwood, slowly looked towards William who, upon catching sight of the techie’s stare, sheepishly gave that nervous, boyish grin of his, all the while holding his hands up in the visual defense of not knowing anything.
“...Coldfront.” Elwood blinked a few times in bemusement as he tried to get his brain to process what the man had just told him. “But we found ya here, sonny.”
“Technically, I did.”
“Yea, that’s true, sugarloaf. You found ‘em.” Elwood nodded at William, giving a warm chuckle at how the man simply beamed at doing a job well done. “But... you found him out there in the desert. All walkin’ about all stumblin’ and bumblin’ from the heat, half outta his mind. Looney off his rocker, remember? Ya carried him all the way over to me and you were sayin’ how he was sayin’ the strangest stuff. Stuff that didn’t make a darn lick’a sense.”
William opened his mouth as if to say something, but he caught that familiar look in Elwood’s eyes. He knew that the man had already figured it out.
“You were walkin’,” Elwood continued, turning his attention back to Jane. “You were… so, wait, let me get this straight.” Pushing the bandana up a little bit, he scratched his forehead. “Uh, Jane, was it? Jane, pardner, tell me somethin’. And tell me the honest to God truth. Don’t you go lyin’ on me.” He quizzically quirked an eyebrow, his face clouded by befuddlement. “Were you… don’t tell me you were walkin’ to Coldfront? All the way? Walkin’, on foot?”
“...yes?” Jane shifted a bit, brows knit. He wasn’t sure how old Elwood was, but that no-nonsense look made him feel like a kid who’d come to class without his homework. “It’s all I can do. My Medic needs me, I can feel it in my bones. I can’t take the train and I can’t teleport. But I can’t let that stop me. Abel’s in trouble, I know he is, and I have to get back to him. I’ve waited too long already, and I don’t know if I am even too late. I just know I have not heard from him in weeks and weeks and that is not like him.”
Jane squared his shoulders stubbornly. Nothing was going to budge him. One way or another, if he had to hike an impossible path, Jane Doe was making it back to Coldfront, no ifs ands or buts.
Again, Elwood rapidly blinked, but this time the visual display of his facial cues were not out of bemusement but we're, instead, out of the inability to process that bit of information. He was absolutely flabbergasted over what he had just heard, and he was reeling from it all.
“You…”
“I know that Medic,” William quickly interjected, as if hoping his currently malfunctioning beau would up and decide not to speak what was on his mind. “I remember Abel. Swell guy. Real nice. He was always nice to me, I mean. Made me tea a few times. Baked me cookies. Made sure I was bandaged up after a training session. I knew you two were a thing, but, you haven’t been able to reach out to him? And he hasn’t replied to you? At all?”
“...You…”
“I’m sure he’s alright, sir,” William said, in a slightly more rushed tone of voice. “Ain’t that righ’, Woody? Yeah. I’m sure it’s not too late for him or anythin’. He’s prob’ly just busy or, uh, well...” William left the support of the table behind him as he inched closer to Jane. “Have ya tried callin’ him? No. No, wait. Coldfront. Hard to get any phone to connect with that base. Uh, let’s see…”
Elwood had stopped blinking and mentally malfunctioning and, by now, had his face screwed up into an unreadable mask that could only be vaguely described as ‘something far past the human limitation for astonishment’ and ‘beyond an appalling sense of loss for the general faith one had in humanity’.
“Oh! Oh, wait! Have you--”
From where Jane sat in the bed, he could see Elwood walk up behind William and, with a heavy sense of, perhaps, mourning, he placed his hand upon the younger man’s shoulder. Something was whispered into William’s ear, and the sweet soldier gave the engineer a rather puzzled look.
“Oh? ...Oh, uh, Mr. Doe, sir? Woody here wants to talk to me about somethin’ real fast-like. Just be a moment, sir. Just a moment. Promise.”
Elwood quickly (and with a sense of urgency) ushered the younger soldier out of the door. But Jane, from where he sat, could see just a bit of each person. An arm here, or a leg there. Someone moving about from just around the corner of the entranceway. And then the hushed whispering began. Hard to make out, hard to understand. It was a lowered decibel that made deciphering what was being said hard.
Jane, in the meantime, glanced out the window. Down at his hands, which were fidgeting with themselves. Abel. He had to get better so he could get home to him.
~
“Yer prankin’ me, sugarloaf.”
“I’m not, Woody.”
“You promise me?”
“I promise, I do.”
“Willy--”
“This is just Jane,” William confessed, lowering his voice even further in hopes Jane wouldn’t hear this. “I’ve known him for years. He’s always been a bit… well, a bit…”
“A few shy of a box of screws?”
“I mean--”
“A few colors short of a crayon box?”
“I jus’--”
“Denser than a sack of wet rocks? Thicker than batter--”
“It's just Jane,” William replied with a sigh. He held up his hands, once more, in the defense of not knowing. And it was true. He didn’t know what to say or do. It was not a typical sort of situation.
Elwood jabbed his thumb in the direction of the doorway and hissed, under his breath, “this poor sonuva thinks he can walk all the way to that alpine mountain range by walkin’ through the Mojave desert.”
“Well--”
“Does he realize those mountains are on a separate continent? That base is halfway across the world! It’s on a continent that is separated by a body of water, and that particular body of water jus’ happens to be an ocean! What’s he gonna do? Swim that, too?”
“I know, I know. I think he jus’ thinks he can get to Coldfront if he keeps walkin’ while findin’ alternate methods of travel along the way.”
“Didn’t sound like it. He’s fully intendin’ on walking there.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Elwood breathed deep, calming himself. “Listen, darl, I get it. You look up to this guy an’ all. But he’s as oblivious as a herd of cows on steak day. He’s gonna get himself killed by pullin’ off this stunt. I’m awf’ly sorry to tell ya this, but either the sun done baked his brains for good, or he’s an absolute buffoon.”
“...He’s loyal.” William let out his breath. He hadn’t realized that he was holding it in. “That’s... what he is. Loyal.” He wrung his hands together, finding himself fidgeting just a bit by shifting weight from one foot to the other. “An’, I mean… he’s one of the most loyal soldiers I ever met. It’s why I look up to him, Woody. He’s everythin’ a soldier should be. Honest, loyal an’ true. He believes in himself an’ doesn’t believe in failure. He’s ready for the cause, ready to do the impossible, even if it’s to trek halfway across the world jus’ to be with someone again. Even with my bad leg,” he flashed the engineer a boyishly sweet smile, “I’d do the same for you.”
Elwood’s features softened, creases forming at the corner of his eyes as he smiled. Reaching up, he lightly gripped his soldier’s coat collar before tugging him down, just enough, to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I know ya would,” he replied, patting his beloved’s cheek. “An’ I love that about’cha. Real loyal. Real protective. And a damn fine looker.”
“Woody…”
“Righ’. Time for flirtin’ later. Got it, stud.” Grinning at the blush that was coloring the soldier’s cheeks, he gestured towards the door. “We let yer friend wait long ‘nough. Pret’y sure he’s one of them soldier types that gets real antsy when ya leave them alone for too long. Like an overgrown puppy, all antsy and nervous an’ ready to piss on the carpet.”
“That’s… actually accurate, Woody. Save for the peein’ part.”
“Come, now. Let’s see if we can get him to Coldfront without lettin’ him go out there and take the distance on foot.”
Elwood gently coaxed William forward, letting him back into the room first. However, he had the last say in everything. He had his last say without words, but with his actions instead.
With a quick, sly slap to his soldier’s rear.
~
“Uh-- Jane? Sir?”
William slid back into the room first, his cheeks a little red from what must have been blushing. He cleared his throat, moving aside so Elwood could enter next. The engineer had a wily smile on his face; the look of a pleased and sated cheshire cat, happy with whatever spoils it had accrued.
Jane, for his part, didn't seem to notice them at first. He was looking at something he’d apparently plucked out of his helmet: a photograph of someone Will might know, but Elwood probably wouldn’t. It was of a man in a Medic’s uniform. He had gentle grey-blue eyes, salt and pepper hair, and a warm, kind smile. The Soldier’s thumb slid tenderly over the image of the Medic’s cheek as he mumbled to himself.
“I’m coming, Abel,” Jane was heard muttering under his breath. “I’ll be there soon as I can…”
William tentatively took a step towards him. “Sir?”
Realizing he wasn’t alone anymore, Jane quickly cleared his throat, stuffed the picture back into his helmet, and tugged it over his eyes, blushing a bit. “Y-yes?”
William and Elwood shared a quick glance, each one silently asking who would go first. With a small hand gesture, and nod of his head, it was the younger soldier who took the reigns.
“You’re awfully worried, aren’tcha, sir?” Giving a small smile to the helmet (where Jane’s eyes would be) and to the photo tucked within it, he added in a kind and gentle tone, “I would be, too. I’d do anythin’ for Woody, like you would for Abel. You’re rather sweet on him, and so is he. He loves ya, sir. So much.” Moving over to the edge of the bed, he sat down, politely folding his hands in his lap. He sat straight and true-- an attentive little soldier in the presence of superiors. “Woody and I… we got to talkin’, and we wanted to help you.”
“Y’see,” Elwood began pointedly, as he began pulling up a chair to sit in it, backwards, so his arms were folded atop the chair’s short back, “Coldfront’s a bit of a loner base, way out there halfway ‘cross the world. And where you are now… well, y’see, you’re too far away to walk to it. It’s imposs--”
William cleared his throat and gave the engineer a tentative, but worried, look.
“--I, I mean… it’d be hard. Sure. Way harder than it should be. So we were thinkin’ about it… and we want to help.”
“You can help me?” Jane’s mouth cracked into the big, craggy smile he was known for, the one he wore best when flying through the sky or in Abel’s presence. “I would appreciate that, I would. Anything that can get me home faster than walking. Which I would absolutely do if I had to. But...heh. I may be in a little trouble when I get back. I went AWOL from Ravine because they would not let me leave.”
Jane fidgeted a little. He hadn’t thought that through when he left- he had the singular goal of getting back to Abel.
Elwood couldn’t help but give a small smile himself. For being denser than a sack of wet rocks, the soldier… had a pretty nice smile. No wonder some bloke fell in love with this guy. Maybe he wasn’t the smartest person alive but, confound it, when he smiled, he was absolutely charming.
But the engineer’s smile quickly went away once it sunk into his brain what he had just said.
“--wait, you what?”
William, too, looked to be surprised. A soldier going AWOL was a terrible thing. Especially so since many did just that during his own personal stint in jungles of ‘nam, and he remembered what happened to them, what punishment befell them. A soldier going AWOL was one of the worst things a soldier could commit. Or... at least that’s what the army’s superiors drilled into their brains.
“S--Sir, they-- they don’t know where you are? What if they’re lookin’ for ya? What if--”
“Lad’s got some balls on him!” Elwood laughed heartily, a good sounding laugh that was true and honest and came from the depths of one’s belly. “Look at him! Snuck under the gaze of those stiff suits and members a’ management over there at Ravine, and they’re none the wiser! Bunch of dogs runnin’ around in circles, sniffin’ their asses instead of sniffin’ for clues. I gotta admit, Jane, I had my doubts. But I’m damn impressed.”
Jane scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I was not trying to be. I just need to get home. I couldn’t go by teleporter or train because they kept catching me and telling me I could not leave. So I left on foot. They couldn’t stop me that way.” He frowned. “I probably still can’t teleport. And if they catch me on one of the trains I will be court-martialed for sure. How are you going to get me home? I mean, you are an Engineer, if anyone can figure something out you can. I have never met an Engie who wasn’t smart as a whip.”
“Well, would’ya look at that. Ol’ boy’s butterin’ me up.”
“Don’t let it get to yer head, Woody.”
Beaming, the engineer turned his attention back to the soldier in bed. “But, ya know, as crackpot as this all seems, you’ve got a point there. If ya up and went AWOL at Ravine, they’ll have put a notice out to any other bases. You won’t be able to use a lotta MannCo’s devices. Like a teleporter, and stuff like that. So I can’t possibly calibrate somethin’ for ya an’ get a ‘porter up and runnin’. ‘Sides, your records aside, your chip might’ave been temporarily turned off, so you prob’ly wouldn’t be able to use the teleporter anyway, even if you wanted to. And as far as train, that’s most definitely a no-go.”
With a fair bit of musing and thinking, the engineer lapsed into a steadfast silence. Once or twice William looked towards his way, but Elwood didn’t seem to notice. The gears in his head were turning, and he was formulating any sort of escape plan that could eventually be possible.
“...wait.” An imaginary lightbulb dinged over the engineer’s head, and he jovially rubbed his gloved hands together. “Jane, I think ya might be wrong ‘bout one thing. I think you could use one particular route. Might be the best way goin’ about things, too. It’ll take a long time, but not as long as if you were doin’ it on foot.” Leaning forward, the engineer gave a mock stage whisper, going, “so, how do ya feel ‘bout trains?”
Jane shrugged. “They’re alright. I never thought about them a lot. Alright for getting one place to another. Kind of shaky after a while. But I can’t use the train, you already said so.”
“He’s got a point, Woody.” William looked towards the engineer, a frown forming. “You did say trains were outta the question…”
“Now, now, hear me out.”
Getting up from the chair, Elwood began to pace the room. Like a passionate professor conducting a lecture before his befuddled students, he took the stage and began to explain aloud the finer machinations of his grand plan.
A train, he admitted, had not been his first thought. In fact, he thought it had been one of the major options that had to be avoided. Security was tight, and surely, by now, MannCo would have passed on Jane’s picture through the cybernetic grapevine. No doubt each base had received the information and the notice of the man’s absence. Mercenaries who went missing could very well lead to legal troubles later on. With the leaking of information, of blueprints…
But maybe that was the most logical option to take. After all, sometimes there was safety in heightened security. Even if that bit of security was being primed against you.
“...but what I’m thinkin’,” Wood continued on, feeling in his element explaining his ideas, devising a course of action, “is that we wait and get’cha on one of our supply trains. MannCo likes to run trains from base to base, shipping supplies from place to place, keepin’ the wheels on the tracks. As long as a box is properly addressed, they’re a bit lax on checkin’ the contents. They just chuck the box onto the train, and they move it ‘long its merry way.”
“Whoa, whoa-- wait a minute there, Woody.” William bounced his attention back and forth between Jane and the engineer. “Are you suggestin’ what I think you’re suggestin’?”
With a rather wide, jolly smile, the engineer turned towards Jane. With his hands on his hips, he winked. “Well? You followin’ me so far, Jane?”
“YES. Ahem. Yes. I think I follow you clearly.” Jane was grinning. “You want to mail Abel a box that lets him know that I am on my way!”
William and Elwood could be greatly forgiven for their responses in marveling at Jane’s boneheaded answer. He certainly wasn’t known for his intelligence, as Woody had astutely remarked.
The Engineer gave a patient sort of sigh, raising his hands to his face so he could cover it. His shoulders rose and fell with each exhalation of breath, of the passing of time in the most exhausting sort of way.
“I think,” William interjected, hoping to diffuse the situation and get Elwood back on his feet (metaphorically, of course), “what Woody’s tryin’ to say here is that if we find a box big enough, and label it all correctly an’ do a mock up job of having a supply crate addressed to Coldfront, yer’ll eventually get sent there, sir.”
“That,” Elwood said, almost wearily, as his hands fell away from his face. “That’s exactly what I meant.” He inhaled once more, exhaled once more, and regained the strength to continue, once more. “So... all we gotta do is make sure we find you a crate big ‘nough for you to fit in. Fill it with some stuff so it’s not too inconspicuous. Pack plenty of blankets--”
“--rations, too. Food, water, supplies--”
“--and address it all proper to the mandatory protocols, and MannCo’ll think none the wiser.” Jabbing his thumb towards the open door, Elwood indicated the whole of the base, the company, as he added, “I may work for these folks, and they’re the ones signin’ my paychecks at the end of the day, but I can tell ya straight up: bein’ in the business this long, most of ‘em don’t know a real gun from a squirt gun. A lot’a the higher ups in management only care about the money and the statistics, and the gainin’ of territory. Profits. The business of profiting. But,” he tapped the side of his engineering goggles, “they don’t pay attention to the important stuff. And I bet’cha anythin’ we can get you on your way back to yer base, and back to yer pret’y lil’ Medic.”
“You are going to mail ME to Abel?” Jane’s eyes widened under his helmet. Then he threw back his head and laughed- not in a mocking way, but in absolute elation. It was such a simple, yet brilliant idea! He couldn’t believe he didn’t think of it himself. “THAT IS ABSOLUTE GENIUS. YOU DESERVE A MEDAL.”
He could just imagine it: it would be like a present. Abel would open up the box unaware, and out he’d pop like a big American jack-in-the-box.
If he was able to.
The delight on the Soldier’s face fell a bit, shoulders drooping. “I just hope I am not too late. If he isn’t answering my letters something must be very, very wrong. He would never ignore me.”
Elwood and William exchanged silent, worried looks. It was common knowledge that Coldfront was a base of bad luck. From its terrible blizzards to delayed supply trains, to respawn glitches and the like, a lot of bad luck could befall the ill-fated mercenaries there. Sometimes mercenaries didn’t survive. Sometimes mercenaries took a walk outside, and an unpredicted spot of bad weather would crop up, obscuring their path. They could get lost. They could lose their way. They could freeze to death, just outside the respawn boundary lines.
A lot could have happened to the Medic. But there was no use working the soldier up, upsetting him with more potential bad news.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” came the younger soldier’s chipper tone. Always the bright optimistic, he looked towards the sunrises, not the sunsets, in life. “Ya gotta remember, sir, at Coldfront postal service gets slowed down and phone lines don’t always work. I remember Abel. He was a real tough Medic. Strong, steadfast. Loyal, too. Loyal and protective of you.” Giving Jane that boyish grin, he reached over and, with a truly wholesome sense of support, laid his hand upon his shoulder. “He wouldn’t give up on you. He’s there. I’m sure everything is fine. I’m sure nothin’ bad has happened.”
Elwood couldn’t help but smile to himself and softly shake his head. “Listen, Jane. Jus’ met’cha today. And it hasn’t even been that long. But if yer doc is anythin’ like ya… he’s probably worried sick about you, and is doin’ anythin’ he can to reach out to you. So I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it. I would focus on gettin’ there and gettin’ to him. And after that, pieces will jus’ fall back into place.”
“That’s right.” Giving Jane’s shoulder a reaffirming squeeze, William nodded. “Focus on the goal, sir. Focus on that. Keep your head on your task, and complete the mission. Don’t worry ‘bout what may or may not happen.”
“You both are right.” Squaring his shoulders once more, Jane felt a renewed sense of resolve overcome him. There was hope after all. He'd get there in time. Nothing bad has happened. He'd jump out of that box and he'd see Abel’s warm smile. “Nothing bad has happened. Soon I'll be there and everything will be fine.”
It would take a day or two, Elwood informed him. They would have to locate a crate big enough and prepare it for the trip. Then he'd have to look up the exact coordinates and shipping label codes for Coldfront in order to create a mockup of a supply label. It could be done, he assured him. There was no doubt in his mind they'd get Jane on his way.
Jane tried arguing the fact, seeing as two days time was just too long to wait, but the two mercenaries from Teufort knew it was just his anxious nerves getting the best of him. With some time and luck, they managed to convince him to stay where he was and rest up.
To all of this, Jane agreed. He did so on account that he knew they wouldn't lie to him. He'd rest up and stay put... as long as he could stretch his legs and get some fresh air.
“No training in the desert,” Elwood warned him. “We don't need to go back to square one with you half-baked to death.”
“AFFIRMATIVE. I would not want that either. I couldn't return to Abel if I were dead.”
A plan was set in motion. William went about gathering up the supplies while Elwood did his magic, finding a suitable crate, looking up the proper coordinates and making shipping label templates. Jane did his part and rested in bed, occasionally taking small trips in order to stretch his legs and get his muscles moving again.
Jane wanted to get back to Abel as soon as possible, but he had to be patient. Like the Medic sometimes said, ‘patience is a virtuoso’. Or something like that. He couldn't quite remember. Remembering was hard sometimes.
He began to count the minutes until all was ready. Hold on, Abel. Just hold on.
--------
Finally, everything was ready. The crate was as big as Elwood could make without arousing too much suspicion- big enough to fit one Soldier inside with a certain amount of comfort, as well as enough rations and water to see him through the journey. Holes were subtly drilled in the crate where it would allow for the best airflow possible while not looking like airholes- after all, the manifest said the crate was full of medical equipment, and x-rays and defibrillators and other such things did not need to breathe.
Clambering into the crate, Jane hunkered down, arranging his travel rations and his few possessions as comfortably as he could. It was not going to be the cushiest way to travel, but that didn’t matter. If he got back to Abel, any amount of discomfort and rationing and peeing in an empty Mann-Cola bottle would be absolutely worth it, just as much as walking halfway around the world would have been.
Looking up, he tipped his helmet back, regarding the two men who had helped him.
“You boys are a credit to this man’s Team, and a credit to America. If you ever need my help for anything at all, let me know and I will do my best. I give my word as a Soldier I will.”
“Aw, shucks, sir.” William couldn’t help but beam at this. He was rather proud of himself that he had made his idol proud. He knew Jane wasn’t all that smart, and he was incredibly bullheaded, but he was brave. And he was the epitome of a soldier; someone he aspired to be. “You’ll be there in no time. Don’t you worry none.”
“And… there.” Elwood stood back from the crate, admiring all the hard work that had gone into it. He had placed the final parcel of rations in there with Jane, making sure the man had quite a few flasks of water and, of course, a bucket. For what came after the eating and the drinking. “That should do it, boy. Now, Jane,” the suave, charming engineer leaned against the crate, “don’t you be a stranger. Sugarloaf here is enamored by you.”
“Woody!”
“Aw, look at him. He’s adorable when he blushes.”
William grumbled to himself, his face aflame with his shy embarrassment. He tugged his helmet down a little, covering his eyes, unknowingly mimicking his idol in many ways, from many distant situations. But a little kiss to his cheek from the engineer caused him to lighten up.
“He’s right, though, sir. Don’t be a stranger.” He took the helmet away from his face. With hopeful eyes, the younger soldier smiled at him. “Please, come back n’ visit, alright?”
“And next time, bring your darlin’ little turtledove with you.”
“Jesus. You two are so goddamn cute.” Jane laughed roughly, his eyes twinkling a bit, before clearing his throat. “Yes. I will tell Abel everything that happened here. If all is well he will probably want to come and thank you himself.”
Sitting up straight, Jane snapped the two a sharp, proper salute, and then slouched back down to allow his friends to put the lid on the crate.
“Good luck, sir.”
“Pleasure meetin’ ya, Jane.”
The two hefted the lid and, both smiling ear to ear, the placed it on the crate. A moment later, the whirring sound of a drill pierced the sturdy wood of the structure. Everything was being nailed into place, and the crate, with the man inside, was all ready for its voyage.
A soft thudding sound heralded William’s little good luck gesture. He was giving the lid a gentle, reassuring pat.
Soon the box was hefted (surely by the two), and Jane was jostled inside.
He wanted to play his harmonica but he had been warned that, no matter what happened, he couldn’t make a sound. Silence was anathema to any Soldier, but deep down, Jane knew Woody was right- a single out of place noise could get him caught.
So he stayed quiet, even as the hours passed, a train whistle finally blew, and the engine- and its cargo- set out on its long journey to Coldfront.
There was a celebration to be had! There are two things waiting for him. One was a rich black forest cake, impeccably decorated, clearly all by hand. The second was a rather long, awkward box, brightly wrapped in somewhat garish but festive paper. Inside was an intriguing device-- a personal telescope, just the right size for a room's window, and a leather bound, thick astrological book. A card reads "happy birthday", but it is only signed "A.K.H and A.K.H".
@zehypocriticaloath @zecuddlyblumedic
Russell’s eyes widen when he sees everything that’s been given to him. These are all such wonderful gifts. He can’t help but stare in awe as he looks through everything.
“Oh my goodness…” he can only say. He definitely has to find and thank Aldous and Abel later for these gifts. He honestly feels like he doesn’t deserve them, but he knows they would disagree.
Abelärd’s face lights up upon seeing Russell. He doesn’t talk to the young man all that often, but he is rather fond of him. He also respects Russell for the fact he’s close friends with his brother, and for him… that means a lot.
“Oh, dear. I guess you could tell Aldous didn’t make the rugelach.” He had a mischievous gleam to his eyes. “I see I failed in trying to mimic Aldous’ baking techniques. Oops!”
He can’t help but chuckle, dropping his playfully teasing act. Taking both of Russell’s hands, he holds them, giving them a fond, slight squeeze. He smiles at him, his expression soft and tender.
“We are both very proud of you. Aldous informed me of your anniversary date. One year being sober! That’s quite a feat.” Another small squeeze to put further emphasis on his words, he continued in a caring tone, “you’re very strong, Russell. And you can only keep soaring upwards from here. And we’re here to support you. Ah… and,” he winked, “you never need to thank us for baking you things. It is an excuse for us to have a little fun on our days off.”
“Oh, ehe, it wasn’t that. I just guessed that you might have worked together on it,” he said, smiling despite the slight shade of pink falling into his cheeks, “But you also both did a really good job. I just wanted to at least come and say that in person.”
The gesture took him by surprise, but it was welcomed all the same. He looked up at him, his own smile softening just that little bit in response. It was such a wonderful thing to hear. It was almost like having a very close family member telling him that.
At this point, he and Aldous practically were.
“Thank you, Abel. That means a lot. It really does. It was tough at first, but it got easier as time went on. I’m doing a lot better without as well,” he said, before he briefly fidgeted, “I, I admit, it was a challenge, but I’m glad I managed to get through it. If you both, or either of you, need anything too, anything, just let me know and I’ll do my best to cheer you on, or like, help. I’ve got your backs.”
He then chuckled a bit at that.
“If it makes you happy, I’m glad that it did. Maybe I can always come and lend a hand sometime. That’s if you wanted me to.”
