#Behind enemy lines

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[wonderlanddreamer]

Reader POV Masterlist

Main Lydia Masterlist

Edits, Drabbles & More

Multi-Chapter Fics.

Queen Of Kings - Nellie Ensor never expected to return to Small Heath, but fate had other plans. After her father's brutal murder at the hands of a ruthless gang, Nellie inherits the family business—a prize many would kill for. Torn between selling it off for safety and honouring her father's legacy, Nellie decides to stand her ground. Navigating a world steeped in danger, she finds herself entangled with the notorious Peaky Blinders. As threats loom and loyalties are tested, Nellie must find courage to protect her father's dream and carve out a place for herself in a world where survival is never guaranteed. In the heart of Birmingham, amidst the smoke and shadows, a legacy is about to be reborn.

Behind Enemy Lines - Fearless journalist Florence Fletcher is on a mission to expose the Peaky Blinders, but her relentless pursuit pits her against the dangerous and captivating John Shelby. When a greater threat looms, they must join forces, turning enemies into uneasy allies. Amidst the chaos and intrigue, sparks fly and forbidden passion ignites. Can they survive the shadows of Birmingham's underworld and find love, or will their secrets destroy them?

Blurred Lines - Florence Fletcher has always been a thorn in John Shelby's side, but when he finds her drunk and vulnerable on a night out, his protective instincts take over. As he steps in to help her, the hard edges of their contentious relationship start to blur, uncovering unexpected depths and hidden feelings.

[A modern spin-off of Behind Enemy Lines]

The Rook - Seeking refuge from his turbulent life, Tommy Shelby finds solace in The Rook, a quiet pub on Birmingham's outskirts. There, he meets Rosemary King, a barmaid whose sunny disposition offers him an unexpected sanctuary. Her kindness and warmth begin to thaw his hardened heart, creating a bond that takes the gangster by surprise. But peace is short-lived when Tommy's enemies track him to his hidden refuge, putting both The Rook and Rosemary in jeopardy. As danger looms, they must navigate the threats together, testing the strength of their growing connection. Can Tommy protect his newfound sanctuary, or will his criminal life shatter the fragile peace he's found?

[thepersonalwords]

There is no one way to recover and heal from any trauma. Each survivor chooses their own path or stumbles across it.

Laurie Matthew, Behind Enemy Lines

[usstrekart]

"The Siege of AR-558" (S07E08, Stardate UNKNOWN) is one of my favorite DS9 episodes. Not because it is action packed, but because it is so raw. It shows the very real toll of war, not just the space battles that look cool. The costs we forget that are very real in the here and now.

I kept things simple for my episode poster, focusing on the ground troops who were stranded for months on that barren rock.

[rvspecter]

Gabriel Macht in Behind Enemy Lines

[jorjorlinks]

hey owen wilson fans, have any of y'all watched "Behind Enemy Lines"? Because our man is so goddamn gorgeous in it with his short hair and pretty blue eyes.

i mean, just look at him. goddamn.

[virgo-mess]

New Movie on the Drive

Courtesy of @kimbergoldess Behind Enemy Lines is now up on the drive! Happy watching!

[hauntsmydays]

Skullfest 14 was fucking psycho. Whats a better way to spend my birthday than to eat muscle relaxers and see some of my favorite bands of all time. What a weekend

[dimalink]

Winter season Red Orchestra Killing Floor

For last month I do not play a lot. Mainly it was two games from Tripware. Red Orchestra and Killing Floor. I take this games in steams on sales. It is two games from one developer. Two of them are network battles. In both of them you can play single player maps. And I was doing this. I play in free time. About to play half an hour or about 10-15 min.

Games are about the same idea from one side - they are about maps. And you run them and shoot. But in different stylization settings. And different dynamic tempo.

Red Orchestra – it is was released earlier. There are about maps about second world war. There are lots of maps here. Every map is playing the different ways.  There are locations at the field. There is like city. And they are playing very different. There are even maps about vehicles. For example, tank. I more prefer maps like field. And city too. Depending on the map you feel the game different.

There are different weapons. Pistil. Machinegun. Automatic rifle, automatic, machinegun, sub machine gun. Different rifles. Weapons from ww2. So here you need to select a different soldiers. Rifleman, automatic gun soldiers. And two sides USSR and German side. I am for USSR only try to play. Every soldier has its own weapon pack. For example, automatic gun or rifle. There is grenade.

It is playing like a game with a big scale. Scale is big. I played with bots. So, first go to console with tilda. And write addbots 20. I can add onlky20 bots ingame. So it is more fun. Maps are big so by the idea, the more players – more fun it is.

 For example, we play as a soldier with rifle. Ussr. Map at the field. For example, summer. And there are maps with winter. They are feels as very different. And, it is summer. Rifle. Run forward. Maps are big, locations is wide. Field, river. Open space. With us also running another soldiers. They are different. It is starting a shooting. You cannot see - what side it goes. Somewhere from a far. You need to sit and find a cover.

And next – to move a point, where you can see enemies. And fire at him. It is good to lay on earth. Do not forget to move.

 Game for action is not absolutely dynamically. It is not a super fast quake with fast jumping. But everything is rather realistically. But instead of this, this is like a simulation. Crawl, lay down, go, run. Shoot. Rifle need to be reloaded. This is not a sub machinegun. But instead of this you can have a good aiming.

Automatic weapons are excellent about more closer distance. You rush from a side and start to fire.

Maps are very different. There are maps in winter. Trenches. Trees. And snow. And again start a fire. And you cannot see what place it is fire. Who. Where. Need to move forward. To enemy lines. Or in another case, enemy will control your points. It is about a controlling points to define everything. Absolutely new game looks at winter maps. I think all that goes here, is very realistically.

There is a map like blood forest. Or forest of blood. So, it has a big lines of trenches. And you need to rush into them. And it is going all the time shooting there. It is very fast and so unpredictable. There is a moment of luck or no luck. So here automatic weapon is a good thing. Narrow space. Lots of enemies. And you cannot know where is enemy. You can watch in a wrong direction.

There are cities. In ruins. Destroyed buildings. Whole buildings. Open spaces. City streets. Every type of a map feels unique and each map it is interesting to try out. You don’t know what to expect next time. In a memory these scenes. Winter.  You are with automatic rifle is going by snow. Walking though ruins of buildings. And a little further – it is a railway and open space. And just from there, immediately, they start to shoot at you.  Enemy is there - behind the wagons. And he is shooting a lot from that position. There are lots of theme.

There is a map with even more destroyed city. There is a map and trenches. And it is summer already. There are different maps for your choice. In a mountains, in field.

Second game – it is Killing Floor. And it is the same format. By network as idea. But you can play alone. And here it is another idea. You are alone or in team. I play it with brother too, by network. And you are against waves of enemies. So here it is about another game. Some dark locations. Zombies and monsters. Experimental some mutants are raging out. And dark as in a horror movie. Locations are waving horror. True horror. Style of Resident Evil, there is something. And here it is more dynamical action.

In this horror it is goes action about shooting enemies. Enemies are different zombies. Big and casual. You are running the map.  As by labyrinth. You can buy weapons between the waves of enemies. So here you have also different weapons. And you can find something interesting. Shotguns, automatic rifles, AK47, all of these there are here, pistols exists. Cold weapons also exist. You have a list to select.

It is playing as a cool horror and action. I think this way can be a DOOM. As a main idea. If it will have a story and typical maps. But game is main about a shooting, crossfires. And waves of enemies. In the final it will be a boss. You are inside of a horror movie about zombies and mutants. But with lots of weapons. It can be scary. At some places. But you need to move. You need to shoot.

 There are lots of maps too. They are different. There are several game mods. About maps with waves of enemies and mode with small tasks, it looks like tasks. There are also a maps for this mode. It is various, different and good horror action.

There are absolutely scary locations. As some laboratories with black metal around the walls. It is very dark. And rooms are destroyed. And lots of monsters. It is so uncomfortable in a such places.

There locations – oppositive. Like farm. Field. Road. And somewhere in a field the are – zombies and mutants, unholy. It is night also.

Weapons you need to buy for money you get from killed monsters. Between waves of enemies. You can have some pause between next wave. And this way you can try very different weapon. It is very interesting. And there are good pistols and shotguns. So, you start with something simple and next you get something very progressive into your hands. You can take with yourself several types of weapons.

I remember how I play this game with brother for a New Year about several hours. It is very cool and dynamical. Hurricane. Trash. Horror. Shooting. So, we played very normal. Game is rather trasher style. Like Doom, about stylization. Darkness thing. And ocean of shooting. Running a corridors, which are dark. And shoot the monsters. It is happening, that we wait for them for some time. Sit and wait. What side they will go.

Here you can to manage enemy waves, what enemies it will be. Long time of waves with enemies. I do not try this options a lot. But there are some settings. So, it is also rather good game. And you alone also can cool to shake zombies heads. With a pistol with good aiming. First. Second. Everyone straight in a head. With aiming.

There is a game mode like a network – with maps and just enemy waves. And also, there are tasks, you get some tasks. Also, its own maps. Go there. Find a in container something.  First you need to open this container. And there are lots of them. In a certain one it will be a required item. Later you will need to go next. And there is a place you need to do also something. To move forward. Location has a normal size. So, you need some time to find. There is a place to put a tactics. And all the time enemies to appear. You need to shoot all the time.

These two games I played in a winter. So now I think I will try something new. And these games I will play with pleasure also!

Playing little games. From time to time i like to play videogames. And write about it. Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/

[odinsblog]

Behind Enemy Lines, 2001

[wonderlanddreamer]

"I've made men twice your size beg for mercy. Don't think for a second that I won't do the same to you."

Behind Enemy Lines

[mrgriffiths]

Vietnam..

Thomas Ian Griffith as Mike Weston in Behind Enemy Lines circa 1997 and Nick Marini as Terry Silver in Cobra Kai.

Might just make a series of aesthetics for Terry Silver 🤔

Check out my Twitter & Instagram!

[themassespress]

Speeches from the Borikén Liberation Front's Grito de Lares Rally

By the Boriken Liberation Front, Juventud Unida por la Independencia, the Re-Build Collective, Behind Enemy Lines, and the Revolutionary Maoist Coalition Opening – Boriken Liberation Front – Comrade LubangalaBoriken Liberation Front – Comrade OpheliaJuventud Unida por la Independencia (JUPI) – CocoRe-Build CollectiveBehind Enemy Lines – JackieRevolutionary Maoist Coalition – Comrade…

[missathlete31]

Dead On Your Feet- Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Summary: An AU in which Hangman is team leader and takes the missile to save Rooster, yet Bradley comes back to save Hangman as well. As he struggles to get himself and his teammate home, Jake is pushed to his limits in more ways than even he anticipated.

Chapter 6 Summary: Jake and Bradley’s issues finally reach a boiling point and hidden truths are finally revealed.

Jake wakes up to the feeling of someone's arms around him. Normally he wouldn't be so alarmed but the hands are clearly masculine and that is not quite something the blonde expected. He doesn't open his eyes right away, afraid to give up any ground until he better observes the situation but then the sound of low humming reaches his ears. It's the tune to Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire, the number one and really only decent song in Rooster's repertoire. It's not particularly loud humming, but it is rather soothing. The vibrations of the notes brings down Jake's anxiety as the man slowly reacquaints himself with his reality.

Green eyes peak open, seeing nothing but white snowy landscape all around. It takes a moment, perhaps a disconcerting amount longer, before the memories of his trying day flash back to Hangman's mind. He remembers being shot down, his jet crashing to the ground, his ribs giving a rather timely pulse of pain just in case he dared to forget. Jake remembers seeing Rooster eject, his desperate campaign through the woods to find the other pilot and their narrow escape from the helicopter. He recalls falling unconscious during that escapade, forcing Bradshaw to save both their lives despite his injuries. Hangman hopes he made up for it in this last exploit, considering he stepped in front of a goddamn wolf for the mustached man. His arm throbbing at the memory.

Jake's mind flashes back to the aftermath of the attack, when he let his guard down for once and allowed Bradley to see his vulnerability. He knows he cried a little, (okay maybe a lot) but instead of being shunned like he was afraid of, Rooster instead chose to hold him. Chose to still hold him as Jake sneaks a look upwards. Bradley's eyes are scanning his surroundings, not yet noticing his partner is awake, but protecting them both all the same.

Jake can't help the flash of gratitude that surges through him. He isn't one to break like this, especially in front of someone he deemed a rival for the better part of ten years. Call him stubborn but Hangman has spent his entire life refusing to show limitations, refusing to give anyone any weak spot that they could later exploit or hold over him. He knows his parents could be thanked for that but he himself is not blameless. Jake acknowledges that he doesn't make it easy for people to want to help him or even to care about him enough to urge him to open up. He's an asshole, all things considering, and while it may have started as a defense mechanism, Hangman hasn't exactly tried to taper it down as the years went on either.

Yet all that seems pretty stupid in the face of his wingman literally holding him together while he rests.

It's comforting, far more than Hangman would dare admit, but it's also bordering on awkward now that the younger man is awake. He shuffles slightly, not exactly moving from his spot but stirring enough to alert Rooster that he is conscious once more. Jake is rewarded with a harsh intake of breath and two very concerned brown eyes staring down at him.

“Hey” Bradley’s voice is soft but cautious, his hands still staying as a steadying presence around Jake, though his grip loosens in case the blonde wants to bolt, “you with me?”

Hangman nods, swallowing roughly and testing his voice. “How l-long was I out?” he asks, groggily but fairly firm all things considering.

“Not too long” Rooster looks like he wants to say more but he lets them work at Jake’s speed. Considering the resurgence of ailments that seem to come alight with pain now that the blonde is awake, that pace is slow. Jake licks his lips, the taste of blood still there, “the wolf-“

“Hasn’t come back” the brunette replies dutifully, “and no soldiers either.”

Jake nods in acknowledgment as he shimmies awkwardly out of Bradshaw’s lap, a faint blush on his cheeks at the sheer intimacy of the position. If roles were reversed Hangman knows he would have shot out half a dozen insults and barbs about copping feels and buying him dinner first, but Rooster has always been a nicer man than him and sagely keeps his mouth shut during the process.

When Jake's back on the cold ground himself, he can't help the shiver that courses over his skin. Besides being a decent pillow, Bradshaw was a good buffer of the wind, and now once more the smaller pilot is exposed to all the hardships of their environment. Jake trembles again subconsciously, but manages to find his resolve. "We should get moving again" he announces, as though they merely stopped for a quick lunch instead of being attacked by a wild animal, "we're losing daylight."

Both men naturally turn to the sky, noticing the sun's descent to the horizon. They have a few hours, as far as they can gauge, but they are injured and slow, so they can't afford to hang around much longer if they hope to reach that base before nightfall. Just the thought of wondering the woods alone in darkness brings goose bumps to Jake's skin, the image of hungry eyes stalking them no doubt going to be nightmare fuel for the rest of the blonde's days.

Bradley's borderline pouting next to him, his bottom lip jutting out as though he is dying to say something but still he remains quiet. When Jake moves to lift himself up, hoping to get away with just using his good arm but teetering too much that he is forced to use his right, Bradshaw grimaces at the blonde's audible moan. Yet besides the blonde's huffs of pained grunts the duo stays silent until Jake turns around to offer Rooster his hand. The brunette stares at it for too long a moment, and Jake feels his patience running thin, "ya comin' or ya waitin' for a written invitation" he drawls, the accent he usually tries so hard to hide coming out in force.

More than used to Hangman's bite, Bradley just shakes his head like a disappointed parent, "how are you even standing right now?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"You were attacked by a freaking wolf Jake, can we take a moment" he scoffs irritatingly, "-can you take a moment?"

"I took one" the blonde argues, "but now we need to go. It's stupid and dangerous to sit out here with no protection." He throws out his good arm again but still Rooster makes no move to take it. "Bradshaw" he grumbles, giving the limb a little shake for emphasis, "let's go before we get ambushed."

Bradley scowls, frown lines as firm as his body is on staying on the uneven terrain, "I think we need to talk about a few things before we start skipping through the woods once more, don't you think?"

Jake rolls his eyes in exasperation, “We didn’t talk enough about our feelings before?” he asks sarcastically. “We had a cuddle session for Christ’s sake Rooster, I think we’re good-“

"Are you good?"

Jake flinches back slightly at the sharpness of the other man's tone. He hopes it was indecipherable but the narrowing of Bradley's brown eyes and the battle of smugness and concern conflicting on the other man's face tells Jake he wasn't as subtle as he hoped. The blonde sighs before shrugging, the movement of his shoulders about the only thing he can shift without pain at this moment. He should heed his wingman's words, take a moment to catalogue his injuries, to share them with his partner but that's not Hangman. It might not even be Jake. But right now, to survive, to save Bradley, he needs to be the ruthless, cold-hearted bastard that he has perfected for a decade. He needs to put on the show. He puts on a lazy smirk, calling up his usual cockiness, "I'm good Rooster," he tells the man, "I'm very good-"

"I don't need the damn tagline" Bradshaw smacks the blonde's hand away, choosing to get himself standing without anyone's help. He's angry, visible so, as the rage rolls off him in waves. Jake knows he shouldn't be surprised that he reduced his caring and concerned teammate into being pissed at him once more but it still stings; especially when Rooster is hardheaded enough to try to hobble on his bum appendage than to take Hangman's support. "What are you doing? You can barely walk" Jake chides, grabbing Bradley's arm and flinging it over his own shoulder, "don't be an idiot."

"Yeah because you corner the market on that, right?"

He ignores the taunt for teamwork's sake, shifting Bradley back into their position from before and tries to get momentum enough on his own to start their walking. Jake's not sure what's colder, the weather around them or Rooster's glares, but fortunately for Jake the older man acquiesces and finally helps maneuver them forward. When they trip over a log half buried in the blinding white snow, Jake can't stop the moan of pain from the shuffling, earning him a scoff of annoyance from his teammate. He meets Bradley's eyes and just sees a challenge, a battle he's not ready and certainly not strong enough to fight, so Jake just moves forward once again, their destination the only thing on his mind.

It’s far from easy but eventually the two battered and injured pilots make it to the destroyed airfield. It's not hard to find, plums of smoke still wispy and almost playful in the sky acting like a homing beacon but there is still an undeniable feeling of relief when the shattered and burning buildings come into view.

The two Americans are also feeling fairly shattered.

Bradley breathes like a pug puppy, all harsh and heavy breaths as he leans more and more of his weight on his wingman. Meanwhile Jake can barely get oxygen at all, the pain in his sternum pulsing in rhythm with his heart and making tears cling to his eyelashes. When they stumbled to a snow bank overlooking the enemy’s post, Jake drops Rooster unceremoniously to the ground and curls up with his head pressed into the snow. He hears Bradshaw’s hiss as he shifts closer before there is a tentative hand on Hangman’s spine.

“Seresin?” Bradley sounds hesitant, but his hand doesn’t move, “You alright?”

“Y-Yes-“ the blonde’s voice is breathy and high pitch, convincing to no one, especially not Rooster. His need to be believed though, by not only his partner but also himself has Jake continuing to open his mouth to spew his lies, “I’m too good to be true” he muffles as he holds in a groan.

“Your head is buried in the snow right now,” Rooster snaps from Jake’s side, a bit harsher than originally intended, “so why don’t you cut the Hangman show.”

It’s the burns” Jake fabricates instead, his face still hidden as he wills himself not to cry as a particular sharp burst of pain flashes in his gut, “trying to soothe them before they start to scar.”

“Jake-“

“Just give me a minute Bradshaw.”

Bradley does, as he removes his hand and any sort of comfort to the younger pilot. The brunette shimmies backwards on his butt and turns back towards the bombed tarmac and buildings and watches foe soldiers as they hustle around the area. Next to him Jake takes a few slow and light breaths, testing himself and his tolerance level before he can remove himself from his makeshift hiding space and get back to the world. When he finally emerges, Bradley only looks at him with sad eyes before turning back to his recon.

Hangman joins his teammate, shifting carefully to peak over the snow bank and watch the happenings from down below. He and Rooster sit in silence, the tension thick and foreboding as it settles in the space between them. It feels as though there is a battle of wills being fought and Jake is not sure he’s up for the fight. Fortunately Bradley concedes and clears his throat. “We uh- shit, we really bombed the shit out of them” he mumbles, gesturing with a nod to the smoldering ruins of multiple aircraft hangars and runways.

“How eloquent” Hangman whispers, taking the proverbial life raft of Bradshaw’s conversation and using it as an insult point like he’s mastered over the years, “you really are a wordsmith.”

Bradley gives an un-amused look over to the blonde before rolling his eyes with a huff, “screw you" he grumbles.

“Fantasize about screwing me later Hemingway” Jake’s eyes are on the damage around them, taking in a partially demolished barrack that most of the enemy soldiers seemed to be focused on. There is a hangar at the other end that looks fairly untouched though it houses a F-14 that’s older than Rooster. It's not ideal but it will have to do. Jake nods his head towards the jet that while old, looks to be the only one that might have a chance at being fit to operate, “we need to get down there” he informs out loud.

Bradshaw’s eyes are still looking at their adversaries, no doubt calculating the risk of any sort of stealth operation, “we will be too exposed if we go now, we should wait for nightfall.”

“Nightfall?” Hangman’s head shakes in obvious disagreement, “no we still have about an hour until that" he motions up at the purple and reds of the winter sunset above them, "if they send any sort of patrol out they will stumble right into us-"

“So let’s go back to the trees-”

Again Jake shares his disapproval, but this time with a shudder that he doesn't even attempt to hide, "I'm not sitting back in the trees in the dark."

Bradshaw huffs, his breath showing in the cold air, "Well how do you expect to get to one of those hangars without getting caught?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"You said it yourself, we bombed the shit out of the whole thing-"

"Yeah and?" the exasperation is dripping from Rooster's tone, "You want to gloat about it to them once we get captured?"

Jake rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively, still eyeing the area with a critical eye, "No one is getting captured."

"Do you not see all these people? They are going to spot us in a second."

"No they won't, they won't even notice us-"

"We don't exactly blend in" Bradley reminds, motioning towards their clearly American flight suits.

Hangman turns back to the other pilot, sizing him up, "Yeah I mean you don't with your 70's pornstache but if you don't act suspicious no one will notice."

Bradshaw speaks with the heavy vexing that he usually dedicates to Hangman, "That's easy for you to say" he begins teasingly, "you fit right in, looking like a villain," he motions to Jake's blonde hair and un-amused face. "It's your default setting."

It was Jake's turn to glare, "nice, now come on" he gives a tug to Rooster's arm but the brunette holds back, "Jake wait a minute, I was serious before -"

"So am I. I'm not sitting out in the snow for the rest of my life Bradshaw, now let's move."

"But-"

"Oh my God" Hangman moans dramatically, "Can you stop being typical Rooster for once? I know you never wants to leave your perch but this is ridiculous, we can't stay here.”

“Oh well excuse me” Bradley cracks back, his eyes flashing with brutality, “for trying to think this all through.”

“If we wait for you to stop thinking, we’ll be frozen to death."

“And if we jump in there with no plan, we will be shot to death.”

“I have a plan” Jake immediately counters, his tone defensive and he hates himself for sounding a bit whiny, “and if you would just listen-“

“Oh now I’m supposed to listen?” Bradley turns completely now, facing Jake head on and with a deathly glare, “You going to be forthcoming with this plan Hangman or you going to lie and play your stupid games?"

The blonde pilot huffed, “Fuck off Bradshaw, now’s not the time for a pissing contest-“

"I'm serious" Rooster's voice is getting louder but neither man seems too concern as they face off against each other. "You have been lying to me all afternoon Seresin, and I'm sick of it. You need to be honest."

"I have been honest!" Jake opens his arms out as though displaying his claim, "do you not remember me huddling into you before talking about going home?"

Bradley shakes his head, "We both want to go home, that's not any secret" he motions right to Jake's abdomen, as though he has a built in x-ray scanner that tells him exactly where all of the blonde's pain is coming from, "How are your ribs Jake? Still fine like you think you’re convincing yourself to believe?”

“How do you-“

“Don’t” Bradley warns, brown eyes flashing, “I’m not stupid, okay? That’s how.”

“They are just a little banged up" Jake hates himself for lying but he just can’t do it. 30 years of self-preservation was thrown out the window when he saved Rooster but he can’t throw away all his habits in one day. He will still protect himself from other’s leaving, will still lie and act and sell himself as the whole package if only to show others that they need him more than he needs them. If Jake tells Bradley the truth the other man could leave him; alone in the snow, inches from being spotted by an angry enemy. No, Jake needs to stay useful and helpful and therefore worth any effort people make to be around him.

Rooster is clearly not convinced, “You can barely breathe man, come on."

“Because they are sore but it’s manageable."

"Manageable?" The sarcasm Jake usually hides behind must be catching from the way it launches from Bradley's mouth, "you want to stage an assault on an undetermined amount of enemies and I'm just supposed to smile and nod when you tell me that despite crashing your plane, running through the woods, getting landed on by a freaking wolf and lugging me for miles, your ribs are only sore-"

"Well you're right, lugging your fat ass didn't help-"

"THIS ISN'T A JOKE!" Jake flinches but so does Bradley, the pair turning back to see if the outburst drew the attention of the other soldiers. Thankfully pulling out injured comrades and finding the bottom of the pile of debris seems to have distracted them enough and made enough noise for the two Americans not to be heard. Jake is still pissed though, "will you shut your mouth before they catch us and we both get a bullet to brain to go with my sore ribs."

“I just want you to stop lying to me" Bradshaw pushes again, desperate now, "you have to stop pretending. I didn't run away the last time and I won't now. Please" he all but begs, "talk to me."

Jake stares for a moment, sizing up everything. It hurts, maybe more than his actual injuries do, but he slowly inclines his chin down and shuts his eyes. It's easier being honest if he doesn't have to look at Bradshaw's angry mug, "They are bad" the younger man finally admits, "maybe fractured-"

"Yeah no shit, a wolf pounced on them-"

"Before the wolf" and Jake opens his green eyes enough to see Bradshaw's mouth hanging open. Bradley composes himself enough to close it for a moment before trying to talk again, "b-ahem- before the wolf..." he prompts when Jake looks unsure how to continue.

"The plane crash..." Hangman gesticulates dejectedly, "-did them no favors."

"What does that mean?"

"I threw up blood, still taste it in my mouth every so often."

"Jesus Seresin-"

"I can barely take a deep breath but-" Jake meets Bradley's eyes, "I didn't tell you because it doesn't matter. The only thing that does is getting home-"

"Well excuse me if I prefer you getting home alive and not in a pine box okay?" The older man blanches crestfallen at the disbelieving look on his wingman's face, "what?" he questions, "is it really that surprising?"

"No" Jake shrugs, embarrassment raising heat to his cheeks, "I just didn't know you cared so much."

Bradley gives a long suffering sigh, "Some of us have hearts Tin-man."

The blonde smirks, "another nickname?" he teases gently, still trying to see what ground the two are on.

"I don't think I can call you Hang-man anymore" Rooster concedes, "you certainly didn't leave me hanging today," when he sees the younger man looking self-conscious, he gives a light nudge to the man's good arm. "I mean it" Bradley reiterates, "you proved me wrong today. You proved your call-sign wrong. I'm sorry it took me so long to see it but I've been told I can be a little dense-"

"'A little'" the other man parroted in a disgruntled mumble, earning another poke, "hey" Jake cried in indignation.

"I may be dense but I also meant what I said after the wolf. We can get home Jake, together, if we just work as a team. That means being honest with me and yourself."

"I can try" Jake promises, and it seems to do because Bradshaw gives an acknowledging nod, "alright then Seresin, let's hear this plan."

Jake smiles, the first genuine one he's felt since this whole ordeal started. "Well listen on up Bradshaw" he speaks cockily, leaning forward to get ready to draw out the whole outline, "because it's quite genius if I say so myself."

"And there's that evil villain grin" Bradley laments but he leans in too, the two men ready to do whatever it takes to get the hell home. Because they will, the two of them decide, not even having to say the declaration out loud. They are getting back to their carrier, to their friends, to their families. They are getting home.

[usstrekart]

"Valiant" (S06E22, Stardate 51825.4) gives Nog and Jake a real opportunity to explore the philosophical differences of command, loyalty and humanity. Red Squad never comes off as a great idea in the world of DS9, and there are several leaps I have issues with taking. But I like where Nog lands in the end.

My poster was conceived before I began the episode. The Red Squad icon shattered. I couldn't think of a better way to convey the sense of brokenness the story gets across in the end.

[rvspecter]

Gabriel Macht in Behind Enemy Lines