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"I don't understand what you're telling me," Joan said. Her glasses were on top of her head but the face in front of her was crisp. Everyone thought she needed the glasses to read, but they were wrong. She needed them to see distances, which was a problem when your younger brother was the type to go running off to the edge of the world.
Or, in this case, over it.
Owen put a hand on her elbow and out of reflex she leaned into it. "Joan," he said. "We haven't had contact from Beacon Defiant in two hours."
"Communication from Kuril–Kamchatka is notoriously difficult," Joan said. "The magnetic fields are awful." She carefully took her arm away from Owen's touch to bring her glasses back down. The lights in the room were too bright. She had been awake for too long, eaten too little. Owen had caught her on her way down here.
They were standing in a corridor near the cafeteria. The sounds of Jaeger repair were far away. It was nearly three-quarters of a mile across the complex as a whole, not counting the several flights of stairs you'd need to climb to get out of the pit that was the cafeteria. Complexes like theirs, outside of a Shatterdome and meant for biohazardous research and emergency repairs only, had a limited budget for things like elevator repair.
A small group of people tried to squeeze past them in the hallway. Owen's hand reached for her elbow again. "We should have this conversation in private," he said, looking everywhere but at her. "This information isn't public yet."
"What information? You're telling me you have no information at all," Joan hissed, ducking her head when someone at the bottom of the steps turned around to stare at them.
"We were supposed to hear back at twelve exactly," Owen whispered back. He looked pained. He looked pitying. It was making Joan want to slap him. "At quarter til, our communications were interrupted."
"Communications get interrupted all the time! In September right after the 5.2, Valiant Judge was stuck in Kuril-Kamchatka for forty-five minutes before contact could be reestablished. And that was only after we sent down a signal booster-"
Owen's hand clenched on her arm. "It's been
two hours,
Joan," he said.
She looked away from him, ignoring the look on his face. Down at the end of the hall was the cafeteria. It was past two now, but that was a no-go. Nobody at Outpost Gamma kept a normal schedule for anything, let alone lunch. The cafeteria would be packed. So instead she hooked her arm through Owen's and dragged him into the stairwell. One flight up was a maintenance closet.
An unlocked maintenance closet. Owen protested when she flung the door open but shut up when she shoved him in. He stumbled into a mop bucket. "Joan, what," he started, shaking his head when she yanked the door shut behind them and turned the single light bulb on.
"You wanted to be alone. Start talking."
Owen stared at her for a moment, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Our last confirmed connection with Beacon Defiant was a statement of intention that they were going to move toward an unidentified visual. We still haven't been able to clean the video well enough to figure out what it is. There have been no quakes. The on-site support diver's pod suffered a malfunction and we are an hour from being able to send someone down to ten thousand meters to start a search."
"You can't lose
nineteen tons
of equipment." Joan folded her arms over her chest. She tucked her hands under her arms. Her fingers were starting to feel cold.
Owen raked his fingers through his hair. "You can in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."
"Stop
touching
me!" Joan snapped, knocking his hand away. She stepped backwards into the door, since there was nowhere to shove him except the mop bucket. "Mark is not lost. Beacon Defiant has been having issues with its pressurization systems. It's entirely possible that they haven't been able to emerge because-"
"Joan! You aren't listening to me." Owen raised his hands but stopped short of actually grabbing her again. "Wadsworth is going to announce it at two-fifteen."
"No."
"Joan."
"No, absolutely not."
Joan fumbled to pull her phone from her pocket. It was two-twelve, there was no way she could get to the command center. She punched in Ellie's number. The call failed - there was no signal. She whirled out of the closet into the hallway and got one more bar on her screen. Another attempt. Another failure to connect.
"I wanted to reach you first. I didn't want you to hear it when everyone else did. Wadsworth couldn't reach you."
"Bullshit," Joan said, even though she couldn't get her call to go out. She started climbing the stairs. She had been on the second floor until just now. Ellie should have called her. "She should have called me before this."
Owen stopped to lock and shut the maintenance closet, which meant he had to jog to keep up with Joan as she took the nearest exit outside into the cold the moment she got to the ground floor. The sun on the snow was so bright she had to shut her eyes for a moment, although it was already starting to dip toward the horizon. Sunset was in two hours.
"Come back inside."
Joan opened her eyes just a sliver. Just enough to dial again. Just enough to watch the call ring, and ring, and ring, and go unanswered.
It was hard to hear over the wind but there were speakers in the hallway, and Owen hadn't shut the door behind them. Ellie's voice came over the PA system and Joan had to lock her knees to stay upright.
"Attention Outpost Gamma. This is Director Wadsworth. I will get right to the point, as many of you may already have heard half-true rumors which we do not wish to spread."
Distantly, Joan was aware of Owen shedding his coat and laying it over her shoulders.
"At twelve hundred, Beacon Defiant failed to make its scheduled check in. Due to technical issues with the on-site dive pod, we have not yet been able to mount a search. Connection has not been reestablished."
Joan hung up and dialed again. Fuck this. Fuck this.
"Mark Bryant and Samantha Barnes are officially missing in action. I will provide updates directly as they are available. In the meantime, I expect you not to spread disaster scenarios. Am I understood?"
***
Joan stood at the back of the command center with her hands at her sides. She was far enough away from the circular dais at the front that she knew she wouldn't show up as more than a blur on the screen. As much as she wanted to storm up to Ellie and start shouting, that was for the best. Joan didn't need anybody from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps reminded that she existed right now.
There were four of them on the screen, all staring down from different Shatterdomes. Marshal Rao was the only one not trying to talk over anybody else.
Joan especially didn't want Marshal Rao to see her.
Ellie stood on the dais with her hands clasped behind her back. Eventually, the three others stopped talking, and Ellie smiled. Joan couldn't see it, but she could hear it in her voice. "The Kuril–Kamchatka floating outpost has already confirmed that if there was a technical malfunction, it could not have been the damaged joints which Gamma Outpost kindly repaired for Beacon Defiant."
"You say
if,
" Marshal Rao said.
"Without communication with the rangers or the black box we simply do not know what happened."
"Then we do not know that Outpost Gamma's repairs were not at fault."
"Or that they were."
Rao looked to the side, somewhere offscreen. His eyes tracked back and forth while he kept speaking to Ellie. "Kuril-Kamchatka has been showing the potential to breach for two years. Since Beacon Defiant went dark, there have been gravity waves detected from the trench."
Joan took half a step back.
"I trust that this information will remain confidential. The Corps is not prepared to make a definitive statement and none of the universities with monitoring equipment have picked up on the phenomenon. We would like to keep it that way." Rao turned back to stare directly at his screen. "I expect Gamma Outpost to send a repair crew to the floater at Kuril-Kamchatka."
"Yes sir."
"I expect you to accompany them."
"Absolutely, Marshal Rao."
"If it is discovered that the joints Gamma Outpost repaired did contribute…"
"I have confidence that they did not."
Rao leaned back. "I'll reserve any further comment until we learn whether I'm getting my rangers back, Director Wadsworth," he said. He made a gesture and a holographic display of Kuril–Kamchatka appeared at the nearest computer display. Text and numbers streamed above it. "Please review the floater's report before you depart, Director."
Then his screen went dark, followed by the three others.
Ellie immediately moved to the display of the trench and Joan cut through the small crowd before anyone could stop her. "Joan. I see you waited for Rao to sign off."
"Mark introduced me once. I thought he would recognize me and that might prolong a conversation you wanted to end."
"Mmm."
"Do you believe Kuril-Kamchatka is going to breach?"
That did make Ellie look up at her. Joan felt, again, like the ground was moving out from underneath her. Ellie hitting her with direct eye contact always did that. "We're going to find out what happened to your brother, Joan," she said, too softly for any of the other people in the room to hear. "I can't promise it'll be fine. But I can promise that."
A couple of anxious scientists crept up to examine the hologram from the other side. Joan made herself nod without replying. It wasn't common knowledge and it didn't need to be. Everyone knew who Mark was, the way he and Sam had successfully defended the Sea of Okhotsk for three years now. They didn't need any added scrutiny. A sister who worked for an unpublicized partner agency the Pan Pacific Defense Corps would disavow all knowledge of, should it become public, didn't need to make it onto social media or gossip sites.
"I want to be with the repair crew," she said.
"There's no reason for the repair crew to bring an A.M. researcher with them, Joan."
"There will be if you send Vail and Ferrante."
Ellie reached forward and made the hologram switch to one of the gravity wave reports. Joan didn't understand it further than
this is very bad.
Ellie just looked like she was reading the daily cafeteria menu. "Ferrante didn't work on the joint repairs."
"But she does build black boxes. If… If there's been damage, she'll be able to recover the data." Joan shrugged, like it didn't really matter either way. "They're both registered A.M. participants. It would make sense to send A.M. staff with them."
"I'll consider it." Ellie gestured for another scientist to join her. "Don't you have a patient to be with?"
"Agent Green is-"
"If I have a new assignment for you, I will send it over. In the meantime, I expect you to keep up with your current work."
Joan pressed her lips together, briefly. "Of course."
***
"Whoa, Agent Green. What happened to you?" Damien asked, looking like he was struggling not to laugh. That might have mostly been because he was holding two coffees without lids, rather than any common decency. Owen liked to think Alaska had been good for Damien, but he wasn't stupid.
"Nothing we need to discuss, Damien." Owen eyed one of the coffees but didn't even twitch toward it. Damien slowly sipped the other. It was steaming, even inside the lobby with the door shut against the wind. "Is one of those for me?"
"I don't know, is it?"
"Dr. Bright isn't coming this afternoon."
"Then it's for you." Damien let him take the other latte from his hand.
It had way too much sugar in it and only practice kept Owen from gagging at the taste. God, how did Damien drink this stuff? More importantly, how did Joan drink it when Damien put it into her hands? He let the steam fog up his glasses to have the excuse of turning his face away to clean them. At least the thin cardboard cup was hot in his palm. He'd jogged all the way here, but it had been a long walk without a coat.
"So, uh, why did Dr. B stand us up?" Damien followed him into the elevator.
"Dr. Bright is currently with Director Wadsworth attending to a pressing matter," Owen said. He punched the button for level six. At least the elevators in the testing center rarely broke down, unlike the repair and research pit.
He probably shouldn't call it a pit. It was just hard not to, when everyone else did.
Damien whistled as the elevator began to rise. "What she'd do this time? Another patient try to, ah… drop out of the program?"
All of that practice came back. Owen was good at keeping a straight face around Damien. It was pretty much the only thing he was good at, around Damien. "Retention of program enrollees is between Director Wadsworth and the A.M. staff, Damien. If another patient tells you they are considering dropping out, you should let me know. I care very much about our patients' impressions of the program."
"Jesus, you're worse than the pamphlets."
"Hey, I wrote the pamphlets."
Damien gave him a flat look and peeled himself off the back wall of the elevator to get through the doors first. But he didn't ask any more questions about Joan.
The nurse on duty buzzed them in without speaking. Per protocol, the examination area was empty. It looked cold. Owen had brought in a few potted plants from the last time he'd driven to Anchorage, but he had also managed to kill all of them over the course of four months. They barely had the budget for Jaeger repairs at this stage. Decorating Director Wadsworth's side project was not in the cards.
He inhaled. "All right. Let's get started."
Damien threw himself down in the middle of a couch, somehow not spilling any of his coffee. "Just the two of us? When am I gonna get added to the group therapy?"
"You know exactly why you were asked to leave the group therapy session and what steps you need to take to be invited back," Owen said. He sat down in an armchair across from the couch. "When Director Wadsworth is pleased with your progress, you can-"
"Play with the other children again, yeah, yeah."
"Damien, if you won't take this seriously then I don't know how to start with you."
"Is Gamma Outpost going to get shut down?"
Owen took a long drink of his coffee. Undissolved sugar hit the back of his tongue.
"I'm just saying. You guys spend a lot of money on us. I know the elevators aren't working over in the pit," Damien said. He ran his thumb over the seam in his cardboard cup. "Now Beacon Defiant is missing? Didn't they stop here in the middle of the night for a patch-up job recently?"
"You know a lot for someone who never leaves the testing center, Damien."
"People like to talk to me."
"Gamma Outpost's budget is Director Wadsworth's concern." Direct questions with Damien were not his strength. The key was to talk around them. But it was very easy not to, and even easier to keep drinking the over-sweetened coffee.
Damien smiled at him. "What happens to me if this place gets shuttered, Green?"
"Damien..."
The door swung open. The door that, per protocol, was supposed to lock behind them while they were in here. Damien turned to look, and after he sagged back into the couch, Owen did too.
"Sorry I'm late," Joan said. She eyed the latte in Owen's hand, and then the only remaining seat, the armchair at the corner of the couch.
The automatic lock engaged behind her and she made a beeline for the single-serve coffeemaker in the corner and the little bottle of non-dairy creamer. Owen put his cup down on the table in front of him. There were forty-five minutes left in Damien's session. They were supposed to be reviewing his current emotional state before the next round of drift technology testing began.
Damien slid down to the end of the couch as soon as Joan took her seat. "Did you put in a good word for me with the Director?" he asked.
"We didn't discuss you at all, actually," Joan said, blandly. She didn't flinch when he bumped his knee against hers, even though it made Owen fidget. "Since I'm late, let's get right into it. How would you rate your anxiety level today, Damien?"
"You know. A two."
"That's an improvement."
"Late night television and denial will do that for you."
Owen cleared his throat. "The testing isn't going to hurt you. This is a non-invasive study."
Damien didn't look at him. "If I didn't have to be gagged for the start of it I would feel a lot more confident about that."
"You're restrained because the electrodes are very sensitive and can't be knocked out of alignment," Owen said. "All of the patients in this study are restrained."
"And you're gagged for exactly ten minutes while being restrained because you tried to steal a nurse's coat and break into Director Wadsworth's office the last time we didn't carry your isolation protocols into the experiment," Joan added. Damien opened his mouth, probably to insist again that the nurse had offered his coat over, and Joan held up her hand. "Anger level?"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Owen picked his coffee back up. This was going to be a long forty minutes.
***
Something was off.
Damien was strapped to a paper-coated exam table. That was normal. What was off was that the lights were dim. They were dim when he entered the room, but they were always turned up to full intensity after the guards had finished tying him down. Instead they were walking away without hitting the dials.
He inhaled slowly and rolled his head back and forth. Normally by now his head was strapped into place, but the guards had just turned and left before doing that, too. Green hadn't made up the shit about the electrodes. Not only could Damien not breathe wrong without fucking up the entire test - once spending six goddamn hours on the bed because he messed up the connections
three times
- but they itched like hell when they were fixed to his scalp.
Nothing was holding his head in place. The gag was still in. The lights were still dim.
The door was cracked, though. The guards didn't shut it on their way out.
At first he couldn't hear more than the general sounds people were making. Then he tried doing one of those breathing things Dr. Bright had tried teaching him in their first dozen or so sessions, before she'd started to give up on him. Hold your breath. Exhale slow through the nose. Whatever. Breathing slow cut down on his own noise. As soon as his ears caught a few clear words from the hall, it was easier to focus on the conversation that had managed to interrupt his test.
"-can't cut me out like this," Dr. Bright said. Ooh. She was more pissed at whoever she was yelling at than she'd been at Damien for a while.
"I think you'll find I can, Joan."
"Is this really the time to talk about this?" The fuck was Green doing here? He was rarely around during the actual tests - his whole thing was boosting morale and there wasn't much morale to boost when they were doing everything but drilling directly into Damien's brain.
"Damien's testing can be rescheduled," Dr. Bright said.
"Can it?"
Ah. Ah, fuck.
Damien flattened his palms against the paper-covered bed. He stared just left of the dim light in the ceiling above him. It had taken that question to recognize her voice, because Wadsworth didn't usually deem to speak to him, but she'd asked him the same thing once.
Experimentally, he tried folding his thumb underneath his palm and wiggling his hand from the strap. It didn't work. It did rip at the skin on his hand, though, until he gave up trying to get free.
"Joan, I came here out of courtesy. You were particularly upset that I didn't deliver the news personally yesterday. I was trying to be nice."
"Right before I had to sit in the corner and argue with Damien through his entire test?" Joan snapped, which was completely unfair. "I need to go. There are several ways to have me go unobtrusively. But I need to be there, and-"
"You don't need to be anywhere I don't say you do," Wadsworth said. "I had another meeting with the Marshals today. I don't need any questions from Rao about who I bring with me to the floater."
"There won't be any questions."
"Rao
always
has questions," Wadsworth said. "And he is not in the know about the program. Is this really the best time to risk him learning about it?"
Green cleared his throat. Damien could just picture him, standing between Dr. Bright and Wadsworth, trying to keep either of them from laser-eyeing the other to death. "We have a
patient
currently - currently waiting for us and his doctors. We should not be discussing this in the hallway. With all due respect."
There was a long pause.
"All right," Wadsworth said, and then the door was opening.
Damien yanked his eyes from the doorway up to the ceiling again.
"Director Wadsworth…"
"This is my research project, Agent Green. I do occasionally observe our tests." Wadsworth took a seat in the corner. The seat Dr. Bright normally took. It made it slightly harder for Damien to see her. If he picked his head off the bed, he could probably do it, but he didn't particularly
want
to. "Agent Green, please let the team know they can begin their test. Dr. Bright, it seems like the guards didn't quite finish their job here."
Dr. Bright stepped into the room as Green's footsteps faded. She felt frazzled, her edges fraying. It was easy to slip in - she didn't even feel like she cared. Damien didn't look at her, but she brushed his hair away from his forehead before pulling the strap across his head anyway. She curled her fingers in for a split second, but otherwise didn't hesitate before removing his gag.
"Sorry to make you wait," she said, her mouth twisted.
***
Joan wasn't a biologist. Sure, she was familiar as a person needed to be in order to do her job, but the intricacies of drift mechanics and the brain's reaction to various composite relay gels was not her specialty. She knew enough to know why Damien was an interesting test subject.
She knew enough to be worried that Ellie was still in the room.
The only reason
Joan
was here, or Owen, was that there had been one too many incidents with Damien. They were the only people cleared to interact with him on a regular basis - his isolation protocols had been developed grudgingly and over time. It wasn't the A.M.'s preferred method for dealing with Class E patients. Joan had seen his file. She'd written most of it, since he'd arrived. He'd entered the program as an alternative to going to jail. He still had eight months left to serve.
In the meantime, the A.M. biologists hooked him up to machines to research drift compatibility. It was why every patient in the A.M. program was, well, in the A.M. program. They didn't fly people out to Alaska for fun. And Ellie was never in the room for this.
Ellie thought Damien was boring.
Not his ability, she was
very
interested in his ability, but she'd once told Joan, "I would never let him know, of course, but he does get exhausting."
Now Ellie sat in Joan's chair, legs crossed, watching Damien's monitors like the readings meant quite a great deal to her. On the other side of the room the doctors conducting the actual experiment asked Damien things in voices carefully calculated to act like no one extra was in the room.
"You know I have to wonder what you would have proposed doing with your patients if I did bring you to the floater," Ellie said, eventually.
Joan glanced down at her, at Damien, and back at her. Owen tried to catch her eye and she … didn't. Instead she inhaled. "The anticipated timeline is one week. There are multiple self-directed exercises that would cover that time, plus Drs. McDonald and Thesier-"
"Neither of whom are cleared to work with Class E patients."
Owen cleared his throat. "Director, I-"
"Agent Green, you are not cleared to work with
this
Class E patient on your own."
"Agent Green is more than capable of maintaining current levels for one week. We have similar plans for if I am incapacitated," Joan argued, reasonably, and aware that the only explanation for why they were having this conversation
right now
was that Ellie wanted Damien to hear it. For no immediately obvious purpose.
Owen opened his mouth as if to say
Agent Green is standing right here,
caught the looks on both of their faces, and stopped himself.
"The current plan for dealing with the … situation," Ellie said, after a long pause, "is to see what information can be gathered with remote probes."
"I thought that 10-thousand meter pods were being recalled from the Mariana."
"There was an eruption from Challenger Deep this morning. Hence the call with the Marshals," Ellie said. "We are still leaving for the floater at first light, of course, but the timeline has been extended to two weeks to deal with the limitations of the remote probes."
Joan had a metallic taste on her tongue. She stared at Damien's monitors because they were right next to his face, and she could feel a press on the side of her face like a glare tipping her to look away from the sunrise. She didn't
need
to look at Damien. In this room, she only had to do things she
needed
to do. Everything was optional. Optional. Optional.
"There are no alternatives," she said, one syllable at a time. It was supposed to be a question.
Ellie made a soft sound. "There's always an alternative." She turned her head to look at Joan, and the glare suddenly disappeared. Joan blinked. "What's your alternative for Damien's care?"
"Our contingency plan in the event that I am too ill, or otherwise incapacitated, has … has been a step up in the isolation protocols until a telepath or another appropriate Class A patient could be flown in to deal with the situation," Joan said.
"Mmm. Expensive."
"Not if the right favors are called in."
At Damien's side, the doctors were fiddling idly with the EEG cap. At this point in the test either she or Owen should have been asking Damien questions, and the others should have been evaluating their responses against the established baseline. Instead Ellie was here, and Joan was at the wrong end of the room.
"My alternative," Ellie said, "is Reliant Zero."
"Reliant Zero is decommissioned," Owen blurted.
Joan was starting to feel dizzy. She touched her fingertips to her palm, one by one, trying to keep her face as blank as possible. "There are no rangers cleared to operate a Jaeger missing an arm and one of three power cells."
"No. No fully-authorized ranger is allowed to step foot into a decommissioned Jaeger." Ellie shrugged with one shoulder. It wrinkled her blouse. "However, Reliant Zero is rated to eleven thousand meters and it's been well established that the Corps does not have enough active units to train rangers not yet on assignment."
One working arm. Two power cells.
Eleven thousand meters.
"I'll go," Joan said.
Owen stared at her. "Jo - Dr. Bright," he said. "Even a Jaeger missing an arm would still require two pilots. And you haven't-"
"Yes, I have. I was - I was tested before being accepted into the A.M. I'm capable."
Owen's eyes were wide and green. "Dr. Bright. This isn't
necessary,
" he said, exasperated. "Who would you drift with?"
Joan pressed her thumb into her palm. This room was for necessary things.
"Oh," Ellie said, "I have an idea."
***
Drifting was nothing like Mark had said.
Joan was still aware of her body, hooked up to the pit's only drifting test unit. She could feel relay gel on her skin and the bulky, segmented drivesuit they'd snapped into place around her. There was no way to see out of the enclosed room they were in, but she knew Owen and Ellie would be watching everything. She knew two guards would still be waiting just outside the door.
It didn't
feel
like she was connected to Damien's brain. It felt like she was in the testing room. Like if she reached out her right arm something else would respond. Had they … had they
skipped
the drift? Maybe … Maybe it wasn't there for them. Oh, God. Was that possible? Maybe it wasn't there for them!
Joan started to turn her head. If she could focus enough to find Damien in here, if they could make the unit respond, then maybe they didn't
have
to drift.
Maybe they could just work Reliant Zero well enough to search Kuril–Kamchatka, find Beacon Defiant, and drag it far enough for the floater's submersibles could finish the rest, get Mark
home
-
"Joanie," Mark said, laughing. "Are you just going to read the whole day?"
"I'm not reading. I'm studying." She finished turning her head and squinted up at Mark. He was standing over her, but not blocking out any of the afternoon sun. She could tell he was smiling, though. "You know? Like you should be?"
"Oh c'mon. This is work, for me." He waggled his camera at her.
Joan glanced out at the rest of the park. It felt like half the town was out here. Half the town and their dogs, anyway. She lifted her book and waved it at him, smiling back. "Then you should be out there. So I can study."
"You're always studying. And you already have a job!"
"Which pays me to study."
"You can take a break for… five minutes?"
Joan made a show of scrunching up her face.
"One photo? Please?"
He asked a few more times - he always asked a few more times - and Joan said no, but in the end she always said yes. This was three weeks before Mark would catch the attention of the Corps, this was just after he had caught the AM's attention, but the recruiters scooped him up before the agents could and well - and well, they did end up with one Bryant sibling.
Joan shouldn't know this yet. She worked for the AM, and it wasn't her place to tell them about Mark. She …
works
for the AM.
It is eight weeks before Mark becomes a ranger.
It
was.
She shook her head and the wind rustled the tree behind her. Mark told her to leave her book on the blanket. Mark told her, "Smile and look at the camera!"
In her head, her laugh continued, but she felt it dying on her lips. Her body suddenly felt very far away and her feet not quite connected to the ground. The grass seemed to slip away beneath her.
Damien stood at the edge of her memory, staring. He was wearing his drivesuit. Joan was wearing her drivesuit. They were standing in the park, in their drivesuits, and Mark was taking her photo. She opened her mouth, but Damien spoke first.
"Mark Bryant is
your brother?"
The memory shattered into blue-tinted pieces at her feet.
***
Joan finished turning her head. Damien was staring at her. She looked back down and raised her right hand. Damien raised his. She couldn't see it herself, but a display popped up to let her know they were manipulating the tiny arms of the testing unit.
Don't say anything.
If we flip out they won't let us go.
"Are you still in there?" Ellie asked.
"Yes."
"Where else would we be?"
Ellie did not laugh, and Damien thought
fuck her,
which Joan felt more than she heard. "It looked like you were out of alignment for a minute there."
Damien reached out with the unit's left hand and picked a soccer ball off a pedestal in the next room. He tossed it in the air once. Joan watched the readouts change. When she raised her right hand she didn't know Damien was throwing the ball to her, but she caught it all the same. It was easy to toss it back without looking.
"And you said this wouldn't work."
Joan deliberately missed the next throw. "I'm only doing this for Mark."
"These levels don't look good, Dr. Bright." Ellie's voice was right in her ear.
Do you want your brother back, or not?
Joan inhaled, and stretched her arm out to grab the soccer ball from the floor. "How good do they have to be before we're cleared to go to Kuril-Kamchatka?"
That did make Ellie laugh. "Better than this."
***
Agent Green was standing with the guards when they finally left the testing unit. Damien's hand twitched at his side. He stuck it into his pocket. Oh, yeah, he had pockets now - he had real clothes now, black sweatpants that were threatening to slide down his hips and a blue-and-orange PAN PACIFIC DEFENSE CORPS t-shirt that was a size too large. Still. Couldn't have the prisoner walking into the research pit in scrubs. That'd be too on the nose, wouldn't it?
Green didn't even look at him before walking straight up to Dr. Bright. He also didn't notice that when he put his hand on her shoulder, Dr. B turned to look toward the observation room. The door was still cracked, but the Director didn't come to join them. Dr. B only looked back at Green when he wouldn't stop talking.
Ugh.
Damien smiled a little at the guards. "So, is this the end of the field trip, or…?"
"I think it's best if we all take some time to regroup," Green said. He was real chill about ignoring people glaring at him. Maybe he somehow didn't notice the look on Dr. Bright's face. "Our team is expected to depart at six, and we - we have a lot of preparations left to make. Damien, why don't you go back to the testing center?"
"Aw, Agent Green. You're hurting my feelings."
Green faltered, and Dr. B took a step back from him. "Damien. This was already highly unusual. You should return to your room. We'll come and get you when we have more information about the trip."
"What?" Damien took a careful step past the guards. Neither of them moved to follow. Ah-ha. "Am I not part of the team?"
"You're only coming to help us find Mark."
"Oh yes. Mark Bryant. World-famous ranger. I've seen him on TV and everything. How'd it never come up that you two know each other, huh?"
Damien took another step away from the guards, toward Dr. Bright, and nobody else moved. He could always kind of feel the edge of her thoughts, though she'd gotten a lot better at keeping him out since they'd first met. She had really worked at it. Right now he was pretty sure that didn't apply any more.
The door to the observation room swung open.
Director Wadsworth looked at them and laughed. "You all act like we're
done,
" she said, walking straight toward them.
Damien let go. Trying to even feel out the Director was like walking face-first into a lead block and he wasn't about that. The second he stopped reaching out, the guards stepped up behind him. Dr. Bright made space between her and Agent Green for the Director to fill.
"Agent Green, we still have a lot of supplies to get together. We've taken the practice here as far as we can, don't you think? Go check on Vail and Ferrante and see what they need."
"...Yes, Director Wadsworth."
Wadsworth waited for him to actually leave before saying anything else. "And Dr. Bright. I believe you have some research to collect before we leave?"
Dr. B's face was blank. "Research?"
"While I am going to outline our extremely reasonable argument about using Reliant Zero once we arrive at Kuril–Kamchatka there is always the possibility Marshal Rao will decline our offer of assistance. We
will
need a plausible reason for you
and
Damien to remain on the floater at that point."
"Of course."
Which was how Dr. Bright ended up returning to the testing center with him.
***
Once they were past enough doors in the A.M. testing center, as usual, the guards stopped following them. The main reason for the guards in the first place was to stretch Damien thin enough that there wasn't too much havoc he could wreak while people had to interact with him. That was considered irrelevant when three locked doors stood between him and the outside world. The rest of the patients tended to avoid him, for obvious reasons, so no one even looked up when Joan walked through the common room with Damien at her elbow.
The heat in the testing center was always a little too high for her comfort. Her office was off a hallway that also accessed the living quarters. Neither of them spoke to each other as they walked. It was a relief, Joan didn't have the bandwidth to consider speaking.
She felt muddled. The prospect of convincing Marshal Rao she was there for innocuous reasons had seemed clear when she'd proposed it and now felt like a losing proposition. Why would Vail or Ferrante need her there?
Mark would have no idea she didn't want Rao to be reminded who she was, either, not at that particular moment, so unless she somehow managed to talk to him with no one listening in then he would…
She tripped, and her hand connected with Damien's back. He waited until she'd stabilized to shut the door behind him.
"What - Damien, this is ridiculous," Joan said, irritation leaching into her voice. Normally she tried to keep that out. Normally she didn't know what Damien's room looked like.
"You can leave if you really want to."
"I don't… want to," Joan said. Color rushed to her face.
Grinning, Damien put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her against the door. Joan couldn't lift her arms from her sides. He bent down just enough to press his forehead to hers. He was breathing hard, his pupils were dilated even though the lights had come on automatically when the door opened. He hadn't shaved that morning and he smelled faintly of relay gel. "Anxiety level?" he asked.
Joan's pulse immediately ticked up. She felt it throbbing in her throat and struggled to swallow around it, even as her mouth opened and "Seven" spilled out.
Damien smirked. "Only seven?"
"I reserve eight and above for breach events," she said, which made him laugh.
He relaxed his grip on her shoulders and let his hands trail down her arms. Her skin was still damp from being inside the circuitry suit. The room was hot and there were goosebumps on her arms as Damien's hands drifted down to settle on her hips. He hooked his thumbs under the too-short hem of her t-shirt and started rolling circles against her sides.
He didn't taste like anything when he kissed her, and he just smelled like the plain soap they issued to everyone. Joan still opened her mouth for him. She wanted to shove him away but instead her arms wrapped around his shoulders. It was too hot in the room for him to be pressed up against her like this. It was too hot for her nipples to be getting hard, for Damien to be forcing one leg between hers so she could rock herself over his thigh.
When he broke for air he nipped at her lower lip. His pupils were blown wide. "Jesus, you're easy to turn on."
"I'm not going to let you do this," she said, hand on his wrist, guiding his fingers up to her breast. He played with her nipple through her shirt and bra while his mouth found her throat. Joan shut her eyes again. "You can't - You can't do this, you have to
stop.
"
"Kinda hoping you're going to let me come on your tits, actually," he said, pinching her nipple.
Instead of cussing him out she helped him unbutton her blouse. He took a breath and moved to kiss at her exposed skin. It meant he leaned away from her and Joan felt shaken without his thigh between her legs. He sucked her nipple through her bra.
"Damien."
"Doesn't really feel like you want me to stop. I can tell, you know? With most people it's like a blip." He undid her bra and pulled it off of her, cupping both her breasts in his palms. His skin was hot on hers. Joan didn't know what to do with her hands. "Off in the distance, basically. They can't keep their minds on it. Now, when
you're
pissed at me, that's the real fun stuff."
"Damien!"
"What do you want me to do?"
She pulled her lower lip under her teeth and glared at him, shaking.
He smiled slowly. "I mean, I can keep playing with your tits. Not like I haven't wanted to for a while. But you can tell me what you want, you know? With you it's always like opening a door you don't have the key for, but, uh…" He wet his lips. "You still kinda feel like we're hooked up to those machines? 'Cause you don't feel locked up to me now, Joanie."
"Don't fucking call me that,"
she blurted.
He blinked, startled, but the outburst cost her because her mouth was on his jaw before he could respond. He laughed while she kissed him and squeezed her breasts too hard to feel good. "Okay, okay. Kinda kinky, Dr. B, but I can roll with it."
"I want," she started, her jaw grinding.
"Yeah?"
"I want - I want you to
shut up
and - And…" She gasped when he pushed his thigh up between her legs again. Something in her wavered, and the glare in her head that usually accompanied Damien using his ability was pressing painfully into the corner of her vision. "Can't you put your mouth to better use for once?"
"If that's what you
want,"
he said, grinning ear to ear.
Joan didn't move as Damien undid the laces on her boots, or when he pulled them off, or when he settled on his knees and reached up to pull her pants down over her hips. She only moved when they got stuck on her thighs, where her socks were folded over to stop them from falling down. Damien glanced up at her when he realized what she was wearing. He let go of her so she could push her slacks over her socks and he finished the task for her, dropping the slacks off to the side somewhere.
He tilted his head so he could lick her through her underwear, and Joan yanked her head back so she could stare into the overhead light. Damien was … methodical. He ran his tongue over her until the fabric of her underwear was wet, and then he peeled it aside so his tongue could touch her bare skin.
Joan was so focused on biting her lip and not
moaning
that she didn't notice her hands were tangled in his hair until he grunted because she pulled too hard.
Damien took the first opportunity she gave him to pull her underwear down to her knees. He pushed two fingers into her unceremoniously, bypassing her clit at first, and it made her shudder but she was already slick.
It was awful. His fingers were long and he was nuzzling at her hip, playing with her, thrusting his hand in and out and spreading his fingers inside her pussy. His hand made a wet sound every time it moved inside her and his breath was warm on her skin. She was pretty sure if he didn't stop soon she was going to come.
She tugged on his hair again and felt herself starting to cry. "I can't believe you're doing this."
Damien paused to look up at her, not exactly looking surprised but… "This seriously isn't enough for you?" he asked. He thumbed at her clit, making her shudder. "You're
wet,
J - Dr. Bright."
"That doesn't mean I want you to do this. You were in my
head,
I don't want you - I don't want you doing
this.
"
"Yeah. I
was
in your head." Damien swallowed and used one hand to pull her knees apart, adding another finger as he fucked her pussy. She twitched and yanked her head up, her skull hitting the wall with a painful thud. God. No. She wasn't going to come. Not for him.
Not yet.
"You were distracted but I saw a
lot
before you turned around and finally noticed me. You're really trying to convince me you never thought about this, not once?"
"Normal. People. Have dreams. It's. It's normal to - It doesn't mean anything."
Damien snorted. He rolled his thumb around her clit, just missing it, and she twitched again. Fuck. "You were really eager to bring me in when you thought you'd get something out of it."
"Mark is at the bottom of the ocean!"
"The fuck does that matter to me?"
"Because he's a
good person.
He's a better person than either of us!"
Damien waited until she looked down at him again to very slowly roll his eyes. "Yeah, sure. I bet he never wanted to get fucked by a patient. Not like you."
"Are you going to talk or," Joan gasped, and brought her head back against the wall again. She tightened her fingers in Damien's hair and shook until he kissed her clit, sucking it between his lips, and then the water at the corner of her eyes spilled over. No. "You said - You said you'd stop talking," she mumbled, tears dripping off her chin.
Damien drew his hand back to spread her thighs wider. "Since you want me to," he said, thrusting his tongue inside her.
Joan cried, too hot all over, picturing Mark and Sam trapped in Beacon Defiant somewhere in the one of the deepest ocean trenches in the world and unable to stop staring at Damien tongue-fucking her.
When she started to come he brought his hand back to her clit and played with her until she was trembling too hard to keep her hands in his hair. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep herself from breathing too hard. If she didn't, she'd start sobbing, and she didn't want that. Damien wasn't letting up and everything was so hot and bright and the look on his face
hurt,
he just looked so fucking
satisfied.
He got to his feet after a moment and kissed her. His mouth was wet. The whole lower part of his face was wet. Joan tasted herself on his tongue and groaned into his mouth. He smirked at her when he was done kissing her. "Anger level?" he teased.
She blinked back fading tears. "Twelve."
"Really wanna fuck you now."
"That didn't count?" she asked, making him snort again.
The bed was shoved up against the wall in the corner. When Damien pushed her down on top of it, Joan caught herself with her elbows. It was standard-issue for the outpost which meant it was low to the ground, barely room for any storage underneath. Her knees hit the floor hard enough to smart.
Scowling, she started to turn her head around but found herself pressing her cheek against the mattress instead. It was hard to breathe. She arched when Damien's hand came down on her ass, suddenly slick. In the corner of her vision there was an open cardboard box on the floor. On top was a flashy orange strip of condoms - how the actual fuck had he managed to bring those into the outpost? - and an uncapped bottle of lubricant.
"Damien. What do you think you're doing?" Her teeth were grinding.
"What? Now you're surprised? Literally just told you I wanted to fuck you, Dr. B."
He dipped a cold finger inside her ass and she yelped, startled, but he settled his other hand between her shoulders to keep her down on the mattress. Heat rolled over her. She squeezed her eyes shut against a glare in her head. It didn't help, Damien
tugged
and she found herself rising up to meet him.
Damien's breathing sped up and he worked another finger into her. In a couple of minutes he had worked enough of the tension out of her that her arms sagged and she was trembling just to keep her ass raised up for him. The room was too warm and her thighs were wet. Damien withdrew his hand from inside her. He dragged his fingertips down along her back and then stood and backed off. For a second Joan just shut her eyes, trying to find something to help her get back to her feet. She felt him add more lubricant to her ass.
Then both of Damien's hands were at her hips. "You're going to want to hold still," he told her.
"Damien! Not - Not that, Damien,
please-
"
"A minute ago you were moaning, so, uh, not real convincing, Dr. B," he said. The head of his cock pressed against her asshole. "I mean, if you
really
want, I could fuck you another way, but you'd need to tell me exactly what it is you're looking for."
"I don't want this. I want you to let me
go.
"
"Mmm. Don't think so."
He dug his fingers into her hips and pressed inside, impossibly slow, Joan wanting to thrash underneath him but just balling the sheets up in her hands instead. He'd worked her open and made her slick but it still hurt. Her gut knotted as he shoved deeper. The sound he was making made her gag, but when he was buried at her he squeezed her hips hard and she found herself whimpering.
"Do you know how much I've hoped you'd let me do this?" he asked, taking a few deep breaths before starting to move. It hurt when he pulled back, but he only gave her a few inches before pushing forward again. "You're always wearing those fucking skirts and it's so
stupid,
it's so
cold
here."
"I u-usually take a car between the buildings."
He snorted, his hands starting to rub her sides as he found a rhythm to fucking her. "Of course you do." He swallowed audibly when his balls slapped against her. "You get what you look like right now, right?"
She mumbled something.
"I couldn't really hear that."
Joan was saved from whatever it was that he'd wanted her to say. Unfortunately, it was because the P.A. system in the room suddenly crackled. Her lips were already open and she started to yell, but Damien leaned flat against her and clamped a hand over her mouth. "You don't want to do that," he murmured.
"Damien."
He chuckled. "Director Wadsworth!"
"Agent Green let me know that Dr. Bright hasn't returned to the research area."
Joan tried to move. She tried to pound her fist against the wall. She tried to make a sound other than sighing when Damien nuzzled her neck, when he drove his cock into her again. Her thighs were soaked and there were tears on her face again. There were no cameras in the living quarters, only speakers, and even though it would've saved her she thought she'd rather die than have Ellie witness what was happening to her now, how she was squirming for Damien.
"I dunno about that." Damien held back - barely - on a groan when Joan found herself sucking on his fingertips. He eased his grip on her face. "I mean, she lectured me a whole lot about my, ah,
expected behavior
on this field trip, so she's probably running behind."
"Do you know what time she left?"
"You know, I
don't
have a watch here. Funny that."
Over the speaker, Ellie sighed.
"Could you give me an estimate?"
"Couple minutes ago? Thought she'd never shut up."
"Damien."
"Sorry. Thought interacting with normal people and being quiet about everything you've got going on here was going to be even
more
complicated than she was telling me." He couldn't get a lot of movement, lying on top of her like this, but he was still managing to make shallow thrusts in and out of her. Joan blinked to clear her vision and hoped the wet noises weren't loud enough to be picked up by the speakers.
"Hmm."
"She said she was leaving to, uh, gather her research. And not to expect her back for dinner or anything." Damien grinned like that was funny. "You know I think this whole drifting thing is overrated."
"I don't think I have to tell you the consequences of the A.M.'s projects leaking."
"You told me enough when I first got here."
"I'm glad I'm understood. Be ready in the morning, Damien,"
Ellie said, the speaker going dead.
"You should let me go," Joan panted, as Damien finally took his hand away from her mouth. He snorted and lightly slapped her ass. It stung, and she had to dig her fingers into the sheets. She struggled to keep her thoughts on track. "She's going to keep looking for me, you should - oh, god - you - you should let me go."
Damien raised himself back up so he could put a hand down in the middle of her back. He forced her stomach flat against the mattress. Her breasts flattened, too, and she bit her lip as a wrinkle in the sheets rubbed against her nipple. "Nah," he said.
"If she finds out what you're doing-"
"She won't." Damien spanked her ass again, harder this time. The sheets were getting wet underneath her. "Even if I wanted you to, you probably wouldn't tell her."
"She'll call again," Joan started, but that made him laugh, too, and she groaned as he ground deeper into her.
"You act like she's your knight in shining armor or some shit," he said. There was a pause and he started rubbing circles on her back with his thumb. "Hey, have you two ever…?"
Joan's face flushed hot. "No."
"Ever thought about it?"
"No."
"That was a little fast, Dr. B," Damien said. He pulled out of her a little and Joan felt herself tremble. Then he leaned down over her, slowly driving his cock into her ass as far as it would go. He kept leaning over until his mouth was next to her ear, and Joan was shaking, and the sheets under her were soaked. "You sure? Not once? Not even in the shower?"
Joan bit her lip and pressed her face against the bed.
"You two always look like you're about to kill each other or start ripping your clothes off," he said. He slid his hand up her back and wiggled it underneath her, giving her breast a gentle squeeze. God, she was so
full.
"Never thought about her…?" he asked again, rubbing his fingers over her nipple.
Joan breathed out into the sheets, her eyes wet too, "Once."
"What'd you want her to do to you, Dr. B?"
Joan shook her head, and Damien started kissing her neck, just under her ear. He brought her earlobe between his lips and sucked. Joan shuddered. She felt something twist in her gut and blurted, tears starting down her cheeks again, "I had too much to drink at a holiday party. She walked me back to my room. I went in alone, but-"
"Mmm?"
"I - I started touching myself, in bed, and I was thinking about Owen," she said, trying hard not to chew on her lip because it wasn't worth it even though it felt like Damien was pulling her guts out through her mouth, and when she said Owen's name he bit her neck, hard. "But then I was thinking about Ellie, and making out on the bed."
"...Really?" he asked, when she didn't go on. "Even your fantasies are boring."
Joan tried to bring her hand back from the bed to slap at him, but instead found herself scrambling for purchase when he abruptly went back to thrusting in and out of her, fast, hard enough to jerk her hips back and forth on the bed. He stayed low over her but took his hand away from her breast to steady himself above her. When he pushed in at an angle, she whimpered, and he groaned softly.
"Damien, please, stop." She was starting to feel hot again, and tense whenever he pushed into her. Her face was still wet and her arms were shaking with effort. God, she couldn't come again. "Damien-"
"You don't want me to stop," he said. He grunted and propped himself up. Just enough that he could bring his hand between her legs. He whistled when he dipped his fingers into her, and she turned her face toward the wall. "You
really
don't want me to stop."
"At least don't do
that,"
she begged, just barely managing to swallow a moan when he clumsily thumbed at her clit.
"Look," he said, his breath starting to get uneven. "You ask me to stop again, I will."
Joan opened her mouth immediately and he thrust two fingers into her.
"But then I stop. All of it. I don't get back in one of those fucking suits, I don't go diving, I don't risk my goddamn life to help you find Mark."
She froze.
Damien leaned back down, to put his lips next to her ear. "You still want me to quit?"
The Kuril-Kamchatka trench was ten thousand, five hundred, and forty-two meters deep.
No light penetrated at those depths. Outside of Jaegers, there were barely a dozen dive pods in the
world
that could go that deep, and barely a dozen divers rated to pilot them. Most were busy in the Mariana.
The Corps only had so much money to spend looking for one Jaeger. For two pilots.
Joan silently shook her head. Damien kissed her jaw. "Attagirl," he said. He let out a little grunt as he pulled nearly all the way out of her, and Joan pushed against the bed to meet his thrust.
"God."
"Here," she muttered, which made him shake with laughter. It was an unpleasantly hot sound against her skin, and she hoped he didn't notice the way she was clenching around his fingers. He started kissing her throat as soon as he got himself back under control. It made the heat between her legs deepen and she rolled a little against the bed, trying to think of anything but how badly she wanted him to put that stupid mouth to work on her clit.
He came a minute later, going still on top of her, and Joan found herself gasping for breath at Damien spilling inside her. But she had to fucking turn back to look at him and ask, "Are you seriously
done?"
for his eyes to clear.
He looked at her like he was surprised. Like he'd forgotten he'd been the one to want her coming, first.
"Damien," she ground out, glaring at him. He blinked, and then he dropped his head to her shoulder and palmed her, rough and still clumsy, but she was wet and sensitive enough that he didn't need to do much before she felt her own climax building again.
He was still in her. She should have pushed him off. She should have been pulling her clothes on.
Instead she was groaning and pulling his pillow down to press her face against, because he could want her to say, "Don't stop," but she didn't want him to hear his name on her lips when she came again.
***
"You don't have to do this."
Damien clenched his jaw and kept snapping his drivesuit into place. If Green really thought Damien couldn't hear them… Fuck. He picked up his helmet and fiddled with it, but didn't pull it on. If he was going to risk his life on this stupid mission he deserved to hear what they were talking about.
Green had tried to keep his voice down, a little, but Dr. Bright didn't. "I think I do."
"No, you don't. There are two remote probes exploring the trench as we speak. I know the deep divers are still in the Mariana, but they will come once they're free. No one is going to leave Mark and Sam down there.
You
don't have to risk this."
"I know what I'm doing and
I
am not going to wait any longer."
"But you
don't
know what you're doing. A normal course of training before taking active duty in a Jaeger is five weeks of training. And - And most people aren't allowed to drift with someone as unstable as Damien," Green hissed.
Damien closed his eyes and pictured kicking him to the ground.
"You connected once in Alaska and once since we got here to see whether Reliant Zero could even light up. You have been on edge and distracted."
"I'm distracted because I'm concerned about my brother and my sister-in-law," Dr. Bright hissed. "My family is stranded and possibly injured and there are
gravity waves
coming from Kuril-Kamchatka."
God. Damien stared down into his empty helmet. Dr. B had gone down on him after the last drift test and let him get into the shower with her after. If this fucking thing breached while they were down there, if he actually had to fight a kaiju, he… Well he didn't know what she was going to owe him, but it would be
big.
"This is dangerous. I don't mean you trying to pilot a Jaeger, I mean you drifting with Damien," Green stage-whispered back. He probably had no idea how loud he was being. "Joan, I am concerned about you. How do you know that his ability isn't going to get a permanent link to you if you spend significant time in the drift? How do you know it hasn't already? There is still time to back out. I don't want you to do this!"
"I think we've pretty well established that I don't particularly care what you want, Owen!"
"Wow, first names!"
Both of them startled. Damien turned around and grinned at them, spinning his helmet between his palms. Dr. B had pulled her hair back so it wouldn't get caught on her suit. Green still towered over her, but her suit made her look less tiny in front of him. If he'd thought he could get away with it, Damien would have walked over and shouldered him out of the way. He wanted - Well, fuck, Dr. Bright would know what he wanted as soon as they hooked into the conn-pod.
"Are we going to go now or not, Dr. B?"
"Yes. Yes, let's not wait." She pulled her helmet on before Green could react. The visor cleared and Damien could see her squaring her shoulders. "All we need to do is go through the start-up routine. Beacon Defiant's route and last known coordinates have been programmed into Reliant Zero, so as soon as they drop us into the water we can begin moving."
Green looked over at him, and Damien winked before putting his own helmet on.
***
Sam spotted the other Jaeger first. But
first
was a relative concept when you were in the conn-pod together. The moment she registered it, it was in Mark's vision, too, and the both of them felt their stomachs drop together.
"Who would send Reliant Zero after us?" Sam asked. "Who - Who would they
put
in there?"
"I don't know."
Mark watched the Jaeger turning to look at them. It went still. It was so dark down here that they could barely make it out with the distance between them, despite both being covered in some of the brightest lights mankind could manufacture. It was impossible not to recognize the other Jaeger, though. They had both been there when Reliant Zero had lost its arm. They had killed the Kaiju that did it.
The lights on Reliant Zero's armor flared blue. It started moving toward them.
Mark turned to look at Sam, who was chewing her bottom lip behind her visor. "Guess we're finally going to get out of here."
She smiled weakly at him. It had been longer than either of them wanted to count since they'd been hit by the gravity pulse. They were hungry. They had also spent an indeterminable amount of time in San Francisco pre-K-DAY. It had been bizarre to walk the Golden Gate Bridge. But they hadn't had much to do. It had staved off the panic about whether or not Beacon Defiant was still going to be in one piece when they got back.
It had been probably the worst time to jump, if they'd had to jump while they were in the conn-pod.
Beacon Defiant had been in the same place. They'd come back to their drivesuits. But their thrusters had been damaged in the wave from Kuril-Kamchatka and they'd been trying to crawl their way to somewhere their comms could reach the surface ever since.
Apparently things had gotten desperate enough for Marshal Rao to send a decommissioned Jaeger after them. Mark was relieved and panicked at the same time.
"They aren't responding to my hails," Sam said, when they were close enough to make out the writing across Reliant Zero's armor. "Why wouldn't they be responding to my hails?"
"Maybe they never fixed the Jaeger's comm systems? I mean, the arm's still missing."
Sam toggled their own lights to flare out a message:
open your channels.
"Still nothing."
God, he was hungry. And thirsty. The second he thought it he felt Sam thinking it too, and they both looked at each other again. Mark sighed. He moved their left foot forward and Sam moved the right. "Okay," Mark said. "There's no point in panicking. Reliant Zero is broken, but it's here."
"Right." Sam inhaled. "One arm is more than enough to help us get off the ground. And the floater will have lines out for us. We just have to get high enough to reach one of them."
"And then we can find out who the hell is in that Jaeger."
Sam grinned at him. "Yeah," she said. "That."
***
"Joanie?" Mark asked, stumbling to a halt.
It was probably not good that he was recognizing her in the middle of everyone like this. Joan could feel Marshal Rao staring at her. She could also feel Damien staring at her. But Damien was out of her head now - mostly, almost entirely - and she was running across the floor because Mark was
here,
and
alive,
and she nearly knocked him over when she hugged him but Sam was there to keep the two of them from falling over so it was okay.
"Joanie," Mark said, leaning back to look at her. There were dark circles under his eyes. There were dark circles under Sam's eyes. She smiled when Joan reached out to touch her shoulder, though. Mark looked her up and down. "What the - What are you doing here? Why are you in a drivesuit?"
"They don't let actual rangers in decommissioned, one-armed Jaegers," Joan said, trying to laugh. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Joan, we have a
lot
to tell you," Sam said. She glanced at the crowd - which was giving them space, for the moment. That wouldn't last. Sam swallowed. "Later. When nobody can overhear. Wait… is Wadsworth here?"
"I couldn't get out here on my own."
"We're going to have to talk about you going back," Mark said, frowning when Joan shut her eyes. "I just - Joanie. We thought we were never going to see you again. We thought we were never going to see
anybody
again."
"Wait." Sam tilted her head to one side, blinking. "Joan, Reliant Zero is pretty broken, but it still needs two pilots. Who were you drifting with?"
Joan let go of them both and took a step back. She made herself smile, even though it just made Mark and Sam look at each other skeptically. The crowd was starting to move forward and this wasn't the place to talk. Not where Rao could hear. Not where Ellie could hear. "I think it's time to get some food and water into you two," she said, brightly. "The doctors are going to want to check you over. And I can't monopolize you."
"Um, I kinda want to hear more about this person you were drifting with, actually," Mark said.
"You said you would never get into a conn-pod with anyone," Sam added.
"Dr. Cross! I think they're ready to go to the - Yes, yes, thank you, no, I'm fine."
Mark gave her a look that said
later,
and Sam shot her a worried glance as the medical staff led them away. Joan was just relieved that Marshal Rao followed them. If her luck held then Ellie would run interference on at least part of that and she would only have to answer half of the questions in the air right now.
Behind her, Damien cleared his throat. The crowd wasn't interested in them: It wanted to follow Mark and Sam as far as possible. "So if
he
calls you Joanie, can I call you Joan?"
"Absolutely not, Damien."
"But I helped rescue them."
"No."
"But you call me-"
"You insist you
don't have a last name.
"
Damien muttered something under his breath and only jumped half an inch when Ellie walked up behind them and put her hands on their shoulders.
"Good work," she said. She was smiling and it wasn't reaching her eyes. There were still a lot of people in the enormous docking area. Half the staff of the floater. "I think we need to discuss our next moves before anyone comes back from medical."
"Our comms didn't work. I couldn't tell Mark not to recognize me."
"No plan survives first contact," Ellie said.
***
Whoever was knocking on the door didn't let up. When nobody answered for thirty seconds, they started again. Damien stopped kissing her and glared at the doorway. Joan hurriedly pulled her shirt back down.
When Ellie had finally let them go, hours and one meal later, she'd run back to her temporary room to shower the relay gel off. She had stayed in there until the water ran cold. Damien had been waiting for her when she'd gotten out. Her hair was still wet and clinging to her neck. She wasn't going to be able to make herself any more presentable before the person in the hall got impatient. At least Damien's hair always kind of looked like that.
"Seriously?" he asked, letting her push him back.
"If this is Rao…" She smoothed her hair back and turned to face the door. If she'd known where a hair tie was she would have grabbed it. But someone else had thrown her bags in here when they'd arrived. She was wearing the clothes that had been on top when she'd unzipped the first one.
"Marshal isn't going to come to your room," Damien muttered, flopping down in one of the two chairs that had been in the room when she'd unpacked.
He was right. It wasn't Marshal Rao in the hallway. It was Mark and Sam. Still looking haggard, but definitely like they'd been touched up and maybe even taken a nap in the past seven hours. Mark stepped into the room before Joan could say hello.
"We've been knocking for two minutes, were you in the… Hi," he said, coming to a halt a few steps into the room.
Damien gave him a lazy salute. "Hi."
Joan waved Sam in and shut the door behind her. She'd really been hoping for more time before having this conversation. "Mark, Sam. I thought we wouldn't see you again until tomorrow. How are you? Are you okay? I don't have any food, but there's some paper cups by the sink, do you want water?"
Sam laughed softly and sat down on the end of the bed. "Joan. It's okay. We've been rehydrated."
"Yeah." Mark finally looked away from Damien. He tapped his wrist. "IVs and everything. We heard a rumor the Gamma Outpost team was leaving soon. You're not, right?"
"I think Director Wadsworth wants to be here as long as possible. Show her face, right? At some point everyone's going to be asking who orchestrated the rescue."
Mark snorted. "I mean, with her…" He paused. "Sorry, who are you?"
"Damien."
"You have a last name, Damien?"
"Mark," Sam said, which was good, because Joan didn't want to know what Damien was about to say. Mark exchanged some kind of silent look with her and sat in the empty chair across from Damien. Joan sat down on the bed next to Sam. "It's been so long since we've seen you, Joan. We didn't want to miss you."
"And we didn't think they'd fill you in," Mark said.
Joan sat up a little straighter. "What happened?"
Sam clasped her hands together in her lap. "We were doing some mapping of the trench. The gravity waves have been coming in intervals, and we thought we had a few days until the next one. It took us by surprise and I… had a bad reaction."
"Wait." Mark leaned forward. "Joanie, this is kind of a private conversation."
"Don't mind me," Damien said, smiling. "I'm Dr. B's left hand. Whatever you say to her you can say to me."
"You call your drift partner Dr. B?" Mark asked, frowning. "How do you two know each other?"
Damien kept smiling. The single light above them glared a bit. Joan looked down. "Not important," he said.
"I made a jump. And since we were drifting, Mark came with me. According to Beacon Defiant's systems, we were only gone for three seconds." Sam held both hands up, palms out, when Joan turned to stare at her. "When we came back we found the thrusters had been damaged. We couldn't get out on our own. Marshal Rao thinks it has to do with the shielding on our power system."
"Does he know
everything?
"
"I made sure the systems wouldn't show anything abnormal. He doesn't know about us."
"But Wadsworth
does.
Is she going to be a problem, Joanie?"
"I honestly don't know." Joan pushed a wet lock of hair back from her face. "The only reason he asked her out here was because you got your last repairs at Gamma Outpost. We were here in case things went wrong. I asked to come because it was
you.
"
Damien raised his hand. "Sorry. Jump?"
"I can move into the past," Sam said, her face creasing. She squinted like the light was bothering her. "I almost never do it unplanned now, but when the wave hit us it was like … Like I was pulling us out of there to protect us."
"You can move people through time?" Damien's eyes were wide.
"No, I can just move to the past. Mark only comes with me because he can…"
"Wait." Mark stood, and it felt like the air in the room cracked. Damien physically jerked back in his chair. "Wait. What the fuck? We would never tell anyone this right away, Joanie's partner or no. This isn't - Who are you?"
Damien stared up at him. "Uh."
Joan got to her feet, too, and latched onto Mark's arm. "Mark, stop."
"Does this run in the family or something?" Damien asked, trying to laugh. He looked like he wanted to bolt into the hallway, but there wasn't room to get around the Bryant siblings.
"I'm sorry, sis, I just don't trust this guy. Sam and I could get into big trouble if people found out about us - They could take away Beacon Defiant and ship us off to Wadsworth's lab, you know this," Mark said. He pushed her hand off his arm and moved between her and Damien. It felt like Joan couldn't open her mouth. It felt like she could hardly breathe. "Who
are
you?"
Damien was flushed. He shifted his weight and shut his mouth twice before words finally started tumbling out of him. "I guess you could say I'm from Wadsworth's lab."
"You're an atypical? And Wadsworth put you in a Jaeger? With my
sister?"
"Mark-"
"No, no. Wadsworth once told me that if it were up to her she'd screen every ranger in the program to make sure they weren't a
danger
to the public. She said she'd put me and Sam in Gamma Outpost and throw away the key."
Joan swallowed. "It wasn't exactly like that."
"What the fuck happened that she let you in a Jaeger with Joanie?"
"She thinks I'm interesting," Damien said. "I…" He pressed his lips together, but the light above them got stronger, and he ground out, "Jesus. I make people do things I want them to."
Mark spun on his heel. "Is he telling the truth?"
Joan's hands were digging into the mattress. Next to her, Sam looked dazed. But Joan finally felt like her head was on straight. She took a deep breath and squared a look up at her little brother. "Mark, you need to calm down. Damien is telling the truth because you want him to be. But you don't need to be angry at
us.
"
"What do you mean, because
he
wants me to?"
"You're not going back to Gamma Outpost. Not with somebody like that."
"I can make my own decisions, Mark."
"Can you? With him around?"
"You're jumping to irrational conclusions," Joan started.
"You told me once you would only drift with somebody with a gun to your head, that you didn't want anyone in your brain," Mark snapped. "Forgive me for wanting to know who finally forced you."
Joan threw her hands in the air. "I thought you and Sam were going to
die!
"
"Uh, excuse me. Nobody answered my question," Damien said.
Sam jumped to her feet and pushed Mark and Joan apart. She glared at Damien when he opened his mouth, and he actually sat back in his chair. "Everybody, shut up for five seconds. We're all stressed the hell out. I thought we were going to die of dehydration ten thousand meters below sea level. Mark and I are both on edge, and this isn't helping. We haven't seen you in
months,
Joan. I don't want to fight!"
Mark sighed. "I'm just worried."
"And
you're getting hit with a power you've never encountered before. We all need to take a step back." Sam turned to Joan and hugged her, and after a second, Joan relaxed and hugged her back. "We're not going to make you quit your job."
"I appreciate the thought," Joan said, dryly.
Sam shook her head. "If you trust Damien enough to pilot with him, then we trust him, too." She shot Damien a hard look. "But none of this can leave this room, do you hear me? Marshal Rao doesn't know about atypicals yet. We have to find the right time to tell him, and this isn't it."
"Look. I'd rather jump overboard than be in a room alone with a Marshal. I'm not going to tell him," Damien said. He inched the chair backwards a little. "But, uh. What the actual fuck is going on?"
"Mark gets the powers of whatever atypical he's near."
"Are you shitting me?"
"Nope. Did you force Joan to drift with you?"
The corner of Damien's mouth curled. "Honestly, I didn't really want to get in that thing in the first place. I only did it because there was nobody else for her to drift with."
Joan was so glad Mark didn't press that any further. He still wasn't happy, but for the moment, he stopped trying to get answers. Whatever she had to do for the universe to make sure he never changed his mind, she'd do.
"I'm sorry for getting agitated," Joan said, after a second. She sat back down. "It's been … very tense. I understand why you're worried about Ellie, but she isn't going to jeopardize her program
or
your careers. If she'd wanted to, she would have by now."
Mark let out a breath. "Yeah, I guess."
"I don't think any of us need to be worried about that right now. But Kuril-Kamchatka is still looking like it might become an active breach, and we
do
need to think about that." Sam looked between Joan and Damien. "You realize you're active rangers now, right? Reliant Zero may not be whole. But if another breach opens? We're going to need every Jaeger we can get, fully repaired or not."
Damien blanched.
Joan wanted to scream. Instead, she leaned into Mark when he sat down next to her.
Maybe they weren't going to make it back to Gamma Outpost at all.