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stonecoldjerseyfox · 4 years ago

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Jersey on my mind (part 30)

“It’s gonna be a great day.”

Daryl turns his head from the robin, sitting on the ridge of a roof, further away and that he’s been fixing his gaze on for the past half an hour and observes Rick. His friend lets down his shoulders and relaxes his spine, takes a deep breath and lets himself take in the silent calmness of the morning surrounding them. He’s right. It’s gonna be a beautiful day.

The breeze hasn’t even bothered to wake up today. It’s the two of them, the robin, who sings his morning song, to announce that a new day has begun, and the walkers.

“Yeah.”

“Gotta continue working on the wall.” Rick proclaims, as if to create a to-do list in his head of today’s chores. “Check blueprints, find materials. Gotta go on a run.”

“Great.” Daryl replies and nods at Rick. He’ll get to go, he knows it, and he doesn’t mind. As if he were a tame fox, who no matter how domestic it may seem, constantly needs a certain degree of freedom and nature. But he doesn’t mind returning back here either. Not anymore. “I’ll go.” He continues. “Just tell me whatcha’ need.”

“Yep.” Rick takes another deep breath. “What a day.”

His sudden discovery of nature, the surroundings and an overbearing serenity hasn’t sprung from nothing. He watched by Carl’s side for days. Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, not until Carl sat up in bed and ate himself. The eye was completely destroyed and had to be removed. Thanks to Denise, Rosita, Tara and Mila, who, thanks to her previous profession as a dental nurse, knew how to sterilize scalpels and tools, as well as use sedatives and anesthetics. Thanks to their care, Carl got better, as did Rick.

“What time is it?” Rick says. “Seven, or eight?”

“Prolly.” Daryl looks at the sun. He watched it rise, heard the birds wake up. Rick joined him shortly after. “Early.”

“Ya’ wanna go back to the house?” Rick asks. “Get some rest?”

“Nah.”

Rick fixates him with his gaze, very ‘nice cop’-like, yet friendly and somewhat cheeky.

“When I first met Lori-” Rick says, then smiles faintly, chuckles. “Boy, I was- Couldn’t eat properly. Couldn’t sleep. Like I went around in a haze and just thought ‘bout her.”

Daryl nods a little, smiles very faintly, but inside of his chest, his heart takes a skip.

Has it been two days, forty-eight hours ago he went downstairs holding hands with Jersey when everyone was eating breakfast at the big table?

After their escapade in the shower, resulting in soaking clothes that had to sundry at the porch roof, they stayed in the bedroom for the entire day. Juri wasn’t in bed when they came out from the bathroom, holding their soaking wet clothes. The smell of breakfast toasts was enough for Mila to understand that Juri was downstairs. Daryl left late in the afternoon, to join a group that has started to create a temporary barricade at the broken wall. Carol brought a late dinner to the working group.

“How strange, I think I saw these particular clothes sunbathing on the porch roof earlier.” She said cheekily and bumped his hip, while he took a bite of a sandwich.

“Shut up.” Daryl scoffed softly.

“Pookie.” Carol grinned and shook her head.

He returned late and when he entered the bedroom again, both Mila and Juri were asleep, spooning each other on the bed surrounded by books, soft toys and cassette tapes. He sat down in the comfortable chair, didn’t feel like waking ‘em up by laying down next to them, where he fell asleep.

Their presence downstairs the morning after that was a silent, visual proclamation that yeah, it was the two of ‘em now’. Or the three of them, including the kid wedged at Mila’s hip in his pajamas, barely awake, but determined to not skip breakfast. Daryl’s heart pounded harder than ever in his chest as they settled on the ground floor, next to each other in front of the entire Atlanta group at the table. Harder than when he stood in the yard as a child and saw the house, his home, burn down to the ground with his mother in it. But it was different. As if his chest was flooded with a warm, deep sense of pride, a sense of belonging. The group hadn’t, thankfully, made a big scene of the silent announcement, which was as big of a deal to him as if he’d announced he’d become the president of the whole damn united states of whatever. It was clear to him, when they sat down at the table, set with pancakes and toast, that the others had already put two and two together. Was it Carol who blabbed, or was it by any chance Rick? Anyway they took it without any fuss. Thankfully. He’d never pull through such a questioning.

But Rick’s right, to some extent. He’s been in a constant haze for awhile now. He can’t put his finger on when the haze was inevitable, must’ve been during their walk to the gas station, but might just as well be earlier. She had a special impact on him from the start. Those blue, piercing eyes looking at him over the barrel of the gun after they’d saved him and Aaron. He can’t get enough of ‘em.

“Guess ya’ right.” He therefore says. Why would he lie? Apparently they’re the talk of the town now anyway. Jeez. As if the townies don’t have else to talk about?

“That hurricane of- I dunno, feelings. They’re good. Validation that everything’s just- perfect.” Rick says and by doing so, puts his finger on something Daryl have felt some kind of guilt for, not always, fuck no.

But it’s a feeling he struggles with from time to time, if just for a second or a minute. He’s not good for her, or more correctly; not good enough. But that feeling’s swept away as soon as he notices her looking at him. The blue eyes smiling at him, as a lagoon of homeliness and deep affection.

“Never done this before.” Daryl says husky.

“No one has.” Rick replies while looking at the robin. “There’s a first for everyone. Ya’ just- gets a hang of your own mind. The rest goes by itself.” He makes a movement, and gets up from the boards. “I’ll go get some water.” He announces.

Rick climbs down the ladder and Daryl looks after him as he strides over to the store. He smiles faintly to himself, lets his experienced gaze wander slow and steady over the closest surroundings at the other side of the makeshift wall. A few walkers have miraculously managed to remain on the site since they made a raid and eliminated most, after the great battle. One of them seems to have ended up in a loop; over and over again it crashes into the hood of an abandoned pickup, whose tires have almost grown stuck in the asphalt, which has been taken over, slow and steady, by mother nature.

A soft tapping on wood gets his attention. He turns his head, and happens to see something at the lower end of the ladder.

“Mornin’.” He greets Juri, who’s small, soft hands squeezes the second step of the hard, wooden ladder. “Wanna come up, kiddo?”

Without hesitating, Juri climbs the tall ladder, with the walkman in his pocket and the headphones around his neck. The big blue eyes are determined, curious. Almost at the top of the ladder, Daryl grabs the boy by his armpits and lifts him up to the platform. The three and a half year old is an early riser and has managed to dress himself this morning too, except the shoes that Juri wiggles in front of Daryl, to tie for him.

“Ya’ gotta learn to do this on ye’re own someday, kiddo.” Daryl says and ties the tiny Chuck Taylors.

A small index finger is pointed right at him. Juri looks at him with a clever grin, as to say: ‘Well, until then, you’re doing it for me’. Yeah, that’s probably true. Daryl lets out a faint chuckle. Being bossed around by a kid is something new.

“Ya’ mom’s asleep?”

Juri nods. Daryl smiles. Before he left the night before to join Abraham at the watchtower he checked in on Mila and Juri. Juri was tucked in for bed and Mila had curled up next to him, supported by at least four pillows, with two books about bunnies in her lap; The Velveteen Rabbit and The Naughty Bunny.

“See ya’ in the mornin’.” Daryl said, stroking Mila’s hair. “Night, kiddo.”

The smile he received from Juri, all wrapped up under the covers with his soft toys was priceless and also followed by a thrown, open-palm kiss.

Juri settles down next to him on the platform. He’s dressed in a pair of rust colored dungarees with a black jumper underneath. On top he wears a flannel to shield himself from the still awakening sunlight, looking very proper. The blonde hair looks half combed, as if he got tired with trying and decided to leave it be. He fiddles on the walkman, while peering out over the wall with squinting eyes.

“Ya’ had breakfast?” Daryl asks.

Juri doesn’t answer, obviously, but he puts his hand in the front chest pocket of the dungarees and pulls something from it. A pack of two Reese’s cups. Daryl grins.

“Ya’ mom won’t like that.” He says, but gets an authoritarian index finger in front of the mouth, followed by a ‘shhh’ from the boy; ‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell’. “Go ahead, kiddo.” Daryl therefore says.

He watches as Juri peels the packaging open and takes out a peanut butter cup and hands it to him. They eat the chocolate-peanutty-goodies under silence. He’s amazed at the little boy, who seems to have the intellect and the ability to think like a child who is twice as old. Mila hasn’t coddled him, except smothered him with infinite amounts of motherly love, no doubt ‘bout that, but he can dress himself, make decisions on his own. He’s curious rather than scared and calculating rather than impulsive. He likes to collect stones, feathers and sticks, picks flowers, investigates bugs and likes to draw and listen to music while jumping on the bed or running around in the streets. And Daryl adores him. He’s a great kid.

“Whatcha’ listen to?” Daryl nods at the walkman between the small hands.

Juri removes the headphones from around his neck. He holds them up in his right hand as he pushes the ‘play’-button and turns the small ‘plus’-volume button on the side of the device, increasing the volume, leaking an old rock song.

“Sounds great.”

Juri gesticulates with his hands. It makes him feel both dumb and sad over the fact that he actually can’t understand the kid. Not that it stops Juri from trying, but he can’t understand no matter how many times he repeats his gestures.

“Sorry kiddo.”

The kiddo ain’t let down that easily. He opens the walkman, takes out the tape and shows him. Daryl reads ‘Boston - Boston, 1979’, written in black marker at the thin line on the orange paper label at the black plastic tape.

“Okay, here we go-” Rick appears at the edge of the platform, but pauses and bursts into a wide grin at the sight of Juri. “Hey, little guy.”

Juri waves at Rick as he climbs up and sits down at his left side.

“Here-” Rick hands Daryl the bottled water and then looks at Juri. “You’re up early.”

The blonde boy nods proudly, as to say ‘yup, before my mom’. Daryl unscrews the cap from the plastic bottle and offers it to Juri. He takes it and takes two small sips, before handing it back and continuing to look out over the wall. But soon the little nose begins to search in the air. Daryl and Rick can smell it too; breakfast. Toasts and waffles.

“Ya hungry?” Rick asks Juri. Juri turns and peers up at Daryl, as if he had an answer for it. He then turns back to Rick, and shakes his head. “We’ll be replaced soon. Then we’ll eat.” Rick says, very dad-like. Authoritarian but still nice.

Juri nods and returns to his walkman, puts the headphones over his blonde hair and disappears into his own world of Boston, 1979. Daryl looks down at the toddler sitting between him and Rick, nodding his head to the beat of the music, so carefree and at ease. He looks so much like Mila, except the blonde hair. But his constant cool is something else, a hybrid between Mila and whoever the man who biologically is his father. Mila’s a hothead by blood, with impressive self-control. Like the calmest water which in an instant can blow up into a raging storm. Juri, on the other hand, is calmness personified whatever the situation. Maybe because he relies on Mila entirely. He never has to be scared or worried.

“Now, that’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Daryl’s interrupted in his thoughts. He turns and looks over his left shoulder. Carol is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun, smiling up at the three of them. Juri waves happily down at her with a proud smile on his lips. He’s with the big boys now.

“Hi, darling.” Carol waves at him before turning her eyes to Daryl. “Ya’ boys hungry?” Juri sniffs in the air and nods. “There’s honey and waffles for you, darling.” Carol smiles at the blonde boy. “What about you two?”

“Sounds great.” Rick says. “We’ll be replaced soon.”

“Great.” Carol replies. “You’ve been up there all night.” She continues. “We’re planning a barbeque tonight. Why don’t you get some venison later?”

I’ll be damn Carol, Daryl thinks to himself with a faint, but thankful smile. More things to do today, except collecting materials for the wall.

“Sure.” He calls back at her.

“I’ll thank you later, when you’re back with some meat.” She replies in a cheeky smile. “I’ll bring you three something to eat before you leave if you’d like?”

“Set up three more plates.” Rick says. “We’re done here soon.”

Carol nods smilingly, turns and starts walking back towards the houses. Daryl and Rick look at each other. Huh, a barbecue.

“Could be fun.” Rick says. “Gotta chop some wood then. You wanna help?” He looks at Juri, who nods eagerly with the headphones around his neck again, excited to help out with grown-up stuff. “Great. We’ll start right away, after we’d had something to eat.”

Juri nods and looks at the two men on each side of him, rubbing his tummy, showing them that now he’s hungry. Especially when there’s waffles. He then gets up on his knees and, without warning, climbs into Daryl’s lap. The small hands start to fiddle with his vest, then with the cord of the headphones. Daryl doesn’t tense, but he becomes instantly aware of his body, as if a baby deer had climbed into his lap; he can’t scare him away. But Juri’s calm and relaxed. In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Rick smile.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” Rick says and blinks. “Just, everything’s kinda fine, right?”

Daryl turns his gaze from Rick and looks down at Juri, who meets his gaze and smiles sunny, then out over the area on the other side of the safe-zone, contemplating his friend’s words. Yeah, he thinks. Things are actually kinda perfect. Fuckin’ hell, he feels great. Everything’s calm. No breaches and no herd of walkers approaching. There’s a three and a half-year old in his lap that looks at him like- yeah Daryl can’t figure that one out. But he seems happy. And there’s Mila, probably half awake by now, back at the house. Holy shit, he’s got his shit together at last.

“Guess ya’ right.” Daryl replies.

“Yep.” Rick says, also turning his head out over the surroundings. “I’m happy for ya’.” He sighs. “It’ll be fun. Barbecue. Bonfire. The only thing’s missing is a harmonica, or a guitar.” Rick turns his head to look at him. “Ya’ play?”

“What? Guitar?” Daryl shakes his head. “Nah.”

But a faint smile spreads upon Daryl’s lips as an idea forms inside his head, accompanied by the muffled sound from Juri’s headphones, which leaks a guitar solo. Nah, he ain’t playing. But he knows someone who might. Inside his head, he adds another task to his mental to do-list.

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

#jersey on my mind #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x oc #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fanficition

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coraxaviary · 4 years ago

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Sister-in-Arms | CHAPTER 6: Doing Time

(Part I, Run the Gauntlet)

Summary: June runs errands and fills her weekend with activity. Some are productive. Some are less pleasant.

Word Count: 5.6K

AO3 | Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait! I didn’t have the emotional capacity to edit last week, for some reason.

Warnings: Minor canon-typical profanity and slurs.

Taglist: @keoghans @papercinders @junojelli @notmykirk (ask to be added)

The weekend had passed slowly, with most of the time consisting of June pretending to sleep in her billet, watching but not really talking with any of her platoon, and of one instance where she tried to run and found that her feet were far from healed that Saturday night. After about half a mile around the track, June couldn’t take it anymore and decided not to risk any more injury. She’d come back to the billet around the same time as she had on her first day, and most of the men were back from their trip out to Atlanta.

Skip, Malarkey, and Penkala were regaling the rest of the billet with their story of questionable decisions and hunting for broads. June felt bad for interrupting – the men were having fun, after all – but a few moments after she came into the billet, loaded glances fading, Malarkey continued his monologue, eliciting raucous laughter from the other men, Lipton included.

June noticed that the other men presumed some illusion of normalcy by usually ignoring her completely. That was fine with her. She preferred to keep to herself if any other interactions were going to make her nervous and the others feel awkward.

She would be a paratrooper if she survived this. Hopefully by then she’d have built up enough trust for them to trust her as a fellow soldier. June couldn’t even imagine that, though – she didn’t even know what was coming for her day by day.

At the end of the day, after Malarkey finally finished his accident-fraught adventure story, June had gotten to her bed and found a small pile of supplies carefully lined up on top of her folded sheets. There were extra bandages, more plasters, a few packets of something… foot power, it said on the package. There were a few more cotton dressings in paper packages. She sorted through the pile, finding most of the items in excess.

She looked up, finding Roe in his bed already. He was watching her, but when she turned her head, she caught him hastily looking down at whatever he was sorting through in his medical kit.

June smiled to herself for only a few seconds, and put the rest of the supplies back into her trunk.

Then came the trouble of changing. June had her PT shirt already on under her dress shirt, and she unbuttoned the top after taking the tie off. When she got to the lowest button, she remembered that she had no PT shorts on underneath. She sat down, conflicted.

June had seen endless hours of opportunity pass by during the day. Any time, she could have changed back in the bathroom, but she was here now and she really didn’t feel like making the trek in the dark, with the opportunity of meeting other men on the road who would see her in the shorts. She missed her opportunity when she brushed her teeth about thirty minutes before. She jammed her fingers into her eye sockets, rubbing stressfully. June would just change here, and make it quick.

It was flawed logic, but if all the other men got to stand around in their underwear, so did June.

June found her PT shorts, set them on the bed, and unbuckled her belt, hoping that the long tail on her open button-down would cover her ass. She took off her boots – which she’d rubbed at, hit, and knocked together earlier in the day to get as much of the flaking blood off as she could. She undid the zipper and pulled her trousers down, sitting on the bed instantly and pulling the ends off her legs.

She pulled on the shorts as fast as she could and looked around. If anyone had been looking, now they were not. June had no way to know how many people had taken a good look at her behind. She guessed all of them, at some point. She’d only been there for a little bit over 24 hours and she was already losing count. She tried to push the considerations from her mind. They didn’t matter when she couldn’t do anything about it anyway.

June hung up and folded her clothes as best she could, and sat on the bed, peeling back the bandages to take another look. There was no new blood, just some plasma, and she took it as a good sign. She’d also stopped trekking blood everywhere she stepped, which was a small grace. The humiliation of tracking red footprints into the dining hall would have been a disaster.

She sat quietly, watching the men. They laughed, talked, and smoked – all together, like a huge family. She supposed the platoon was supposed to be close like a brotherhood; maybe the entire company itself would become that close eventually. June was aware of accounts of the Great War, and she’d read about the brotherly bonds of war that men grew during times of dire survival: the times that made humanity almost a thing to be grasped in the midst of suffering.

She wondered if she’d ever make it that far. Would she ever be thrown into active combat? The blood and the guts?

June knew she was stupid to jump at a chance that only promised death, violence, and pain. There was a certain nimbus of glory surrounding it, though: no soldier would ever volunteer if not for it.

June’s attention was wrenched back to the men. They looked so comfortable in this camp called Toccoa. They knew each other, and they would keep getting to know each other better. June wondered if she’d stay permanently stalled in a state of separation. Forever. It certainly seemed foolhardy to count on anything better to develop.

She watched a few men playing cards at Guarnere’s bed, some of them exploding with laughter and shouts of playful protest when Hanson slammed down a card. Roe mostly kept to himself, but she saw that he was part of the group, too, by some silent respect – Lipton dropped by his bed to throw him a cigarette and Roe flashed him a brief smile of gratitude. Malarkey, Skip, and Penkala were gathered around Malarkey’s bed. Tipper and Liebgott were talking about something, maybe fiddling with a couple of dice.

June caught Perconte looking furtively over his shoulder, and he made brief accidental eye contact with June, then put his head back down in the huddle that had grown around Hanson. June wondered what they were talking about. Maybe they were discussing her. It wouldn’t be anything new if they were. Grant dug something out of his pocket, throwing it into the center.

Bets?

They were probably making bets. June was willing to put a good twenty on the line that the bets were on her. Maybe when she’d drop out. Worse, maybe they were betting on who would get her first. June’s eyebrows came together as she watched the gathering of men, and she turned away, not wanting to look intrusive.

Maybe it wasn’t betting. Maybe the men were just so bored and rowdy that they were willing to defy Camp regulations to be gambling in their own billets on dice and poker.

June was starting to feel hot and fidgety. The air was turning stuffy, and she got up, ignoring the looks that occurred whenever she did anything, and retrieved a blank slip of paper and a pen from her footlocker. She tried to think that the stares didn’t tend to intensify whenever she turned around and bent down, but she straightened and more than a few eyes averted themselves unnaturally fast. June made for the front of the billet, skirting around sprawled-out legs and men sitting on the floor.

The cooler clean-smelling air of the night hit her, and she breathed deeply.

The small platform outside the billet still had small red scuffs on it. June looked at the marks with minor disgust and sat down on the far left of the narrow ledge, avoiding the stiffened blood.

The elevation of the billet was just high enough that she could swing her legs off the panel. Taller men like the one beside her during the march could probably touch the ground with their feet sitting there. June was markedly shorter than most of them, standing inches below average. Perconte was the closest in height, but he was most likely one or a half inch taller than her. If there was a minimum height requirement for jumping out a plane, June must have barely cleared it. She huffed a laugh to herself, which was more of a scoff, and held the empty piece of paper up in front of her.

Who would she write to? What would she even say? If she decided to send a letter to Florence, what would she tell her? Dear Florence, I’m already more of an outcast here than we were on our first day of West Point, and all the men do is either ignore me or stare at my ass.

Florence wouldn’t like the use of an expletive. My behind, June amended. This was ridiculous.

June rubbed at her neck, thinking. She could write home. In a few months, James was going to turn eighteen. He was raring to join the war, and probably wouldn’t be stopped by either of their parents. It was a terrible feeling that June felt when she imagined the empty house – just her mother and her father, with empty beds and empty chairs. No one running about the house, yelling, or clattering up and down the stairway; banging doors and laughter. At least they’d have Sharon around. She would always hang around, her overwhelming concern keeping her fussing and bustling. Sometimes it seemed like Sharon was the oldest, not June.

June almost wanted to stop James from enlisting. Go to officer school first, she wanted to say. James wouldn’t listen, probably. He was too much like herself, and he’d try to get into the fray as soon as possible, just like all the other young men who were piling up on the beaches all over the Pacific. James kept talking about enlisting with the Marines. Their mother would try to talk him out of it, maybe Dad would try to get him to go with the Navy, where death wasn’t in the spray of bullets or the fragments of a mortar, but in the flames of burning engine oil and lapping waves of the endless sea. Men in the Navy were safe until they weren’t, and when they weren’t, some stray puttering of a dying engine from above the clouds could mean the difference between surviving the war and scuttling a destroyer.

Was that better than dying on a beach, June wondered? Watching thousands of tons of groaning metal crumble into the sea instead of getting your insides chewed up and spat out by malaria and the rot of the pressing damp?

At least, that’s what June had heard, and what she’d read. She had no correspondence with any other Pacific soldiers. That neighbor who’d told her about how to handle the ODs back home – the one who had sat in her math classes and copied her homework in US History – he’d been deployed to some base in the void of the sea, nameless to the Americans who stayed on dry land. She’d never gotten a letter or anything back.

She didn’t know whether Everett Fletcher was killing Japs yet or sitting miserably in dank barracks in the center of a monsoon. That was okay. They’d never been close or anything, she told herself.

June leaned back, her head hitting the billet wall, and she closed her eyes, thumping her head repeatedly against the wood. How did she get here? She stared at the empty piece of paper again, and for some strange reason, she didn’t think of her family or of her West Point classmates. Her mind latched back onto the idea of Everett, and it was easier somehow writing to a boy she never got to know instead of lying on paper about how normal her abnormal situation was to her parents.

She scribbled a few lines of formality after the greeting line, and avoided talking about her own situation, instead writing out a few simple questions. She thought against all of them, scratching them out on the paper and leaving only two.

What’s it like?

How are you?

She signed the bottom without fanfare or title, going with only her name.

June Diedtrich.

After reading it over a few more times by the light of the window above, June carefully folded the paper into thirds and stilled, looking out at the stars over Toccoa through gaps between billets, and listening to the cicadas chirp from their hidden spots in the grass and between concrete blocks.

“That you, Diedtrich?” came a voice from startlingly near June, and she almost jumped, turning to find a familiar face in the darkness, barely illuminated by the yellow light of the billet, only a few feet away. There were sergeant chevrons lined up on his uniform sleeve. When June didn’t say anything, he shifted. “Forget about me already?”

“Sergeant Coates?” June said out of shock, stumbling to her feet.

“That’s me,” he said lightly. A silence stretched on for a few beats. “Don’t stand on my account.”

June sat back down, crossing her legs self-consciously in the cursed shorts.“Why are you out here, sir?” asked June.

“I’m just taking a walk around,” he said. “I hear your CO makes you do a ruck march every Friday night.”

June stared forward, feeling like the dark added some kind of impersonality to their conversation, like it wasn’t completely real when they couldn’t actually see each other. “He does, sir.”

Coates gave her a small hmm and looked on in companionable silence. There wasn’t a lot to say. June knew he wanted to ask how she was doing, but she knew that he also didn’t ask because it would be better not to. If he knew things were bad, June wondered just how far news about her traveled, and to what degree.

Was he betting in the pools, too? June wouldn’t have faulted him for it. It was a good way to make money, because the odds were perfect and exciting. Ideal betting odds.

She reconsidered it, hating that she’d even thought that he would take part in such activities. Coates was probably the only enlisted man in the Camp who wouldn’t.

He noticed the paper and pen. “Who are you writing to, if you don’t mind me asking?” said Coates.

“A friend,” June answered minimally. She didn’t want rumors circulating about the material she was writing, or who she was writing to.

“Oh,” Coates said. June nodded. Without things to do and places to be, somehow the words weren’t coming so easily this time around. “Well, uh…” he said, after looking emptily at June for a few moments, waiting for her to say something else. “If that’s all, have a good night, Private.”

June was secretly glad the conversation was over because of that jumpy feeling, but some part of her wished he would stay longer. She would never ask, though, and she swallowed the smidge of disappointment with a dull smile. “Good night, sir,” she responded, jumping off the platform to stand, because she still felt disrespectful sitting while he stood.

He nodded almost imperceptibly in the low light and disappeared between the billets of the 2nd Platoon.

June figured it was time to go back inside, but before she stood up to go to the billet door, she heard more footsteps. Three pairs, in fact – all headed her way.

She turned around to get a better look. Leading the pack was Luz, and behind him was the guy who’d all but growled at her on the first day – Guarnere’s friend. And there was Talbert trailing behind. All three were still in service uniforms. June checked her watch in the glow of the billet. It was only a couple minutes to lights-out.

As the trio got closer, June saw the tallest man in higher definition. He was dark-haired and rather scary-looking, with a resting face that all but promised death. She craned her head, trying to place the familiarity she felt, and then she understood. He was also the one who was marching next to her during the twelve-mile march. He’d kind of caught her when she’d tripped, too. June marveled at the opposite extremes of his personality. There was a small chance she was wrong about him being the man on the march, but she was almost sure.

Luz came closer and she could make out the side of his face, lifted in a grin. June hoped it wasn’t on account of her, but there really wasn’t another explanation. She hoped they weren’t going to try and come into the billet.

They stopped outside the door. June would’ve sighed, but she stayed silent because she felt a little more uneasy around the tall one. He looked like he could break her neck in the blink of an eye.

“Hey, Diedtrich,” Luz said. “How’s the foot?”

June noticed Talbert eyeing her legs, and she fingered her letter uncomfortably in her hands, looking down at the men from her perch on the ledge.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Thanks,” she added, after a moment of indecision.

“That’s good,” Luz said, strangely pleasant. The two others made for the steps into the billet, but Luz made no effort to follow. Before the scary one followed Talbert inside, Luz grabbed him on the arm, forcing him to stop. The guy sighed in irritation.

“This is Joe Toye,” Luz said, helpfully. “Joe, say hello to June.”

Toye looked at June, and she looked back to Luz. Toye grudgingly lifted a hand in greeting, muttering something akin to a greeting, meeting June’s eyes for a half-second.

“Other one’s Floyd Talbert. People call him Tab,” Luz commented.

June watched Toye go into the billet, door swinging shut behind him.

“So, whatcha doin?” Luz said, stepping a few feet closer. June stepped back, placing an elbow on the wall. “Watching stars? Which one’s that?” he said without waiting for an answer. It was the brightest object in the southern half of the sky other than the moon.

“Vega,” said June, quietly. Luz looked at her, delighted.

“Damn. What about that one?” he said, sidling closer. June didn’t miss it. Something set her off about his errant, careless contentment with his place in the company: it was natural and friendly, though June could already tell some of the men found it tiring at time to keep up with his high-energy talkativeness. He just made her feel different. Different was bad. She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of different, but she wasn’t planning on dwelling on it for very long.

When June didn’t answer, Luz looked at her, frowning. “Maybe we could move to another place, you know, uh… for a couple of minutes,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be better? Not a lotta people around, more quiet,” he said, trying to play a tone of nonchalance.

June swept a hand over her face, not affording Luz another glance, and looked out into the once-comforting silence that had turned stale, awkward. She pushed off from the wall and skirted him, going up to the door, watching his expression fade from vaguely entertained to something confused. “I don’t know any of the other stars,” she said tonelessly, before going inside and returning to her bed.

It vaguely registered to June that Toye and Tab were at the back of the billet, close with Guarnere, exchanging something with Tipper and Liebgott, and June tried to ignore them.

June had thought Luz might get moving back to his billet, but her hopes were evidently in vain. Just as she crouched down in front of her footlocker, going through the inside for an envelope, she heard the billet door open and close again. She resolutely kept her eyes affixed to the inside of the trunk, not wanting to signal to Luz that she was anywhere near interested.

She felt him come up beside her, uncomfortably close. She kept sorting through her stuff, flicking an eye momentarily to the side to see his boots lined up to her right. There was still some possibility that he’d take the hint and walk away, and June opened another small bag, finding the envelopes. She had been leaning down for as long as she could possibly milk the situation for, and she took out an envelope, replacing the package in its place on the floor of her neatly organized locker with intentional slowness. Then, she straightened, closing the lid gently.

“Do you stand this close to everyone?” she said under her breath to Luz, finally finding something to say.

Luz didn't move. June’s heart rate picked up as she looked at his face quizzically, annoyed that she had to look up because he was a few inches taller. She squeezed her teeth together, looking hard at his face, hoping he’d get the message and not make a bigger deal out of it. The men were already watching, gauging how she’d respond.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

June was suddenly angry. Luz didn’t get it. No one got it. Making trouble with her would result in a citation or a reprimand for the man, and a forced wash-out for June. She couldn’t punch, she couldn’t shout. Anything that would make the men inordinately angry would reflect badly on her. And it would stain her reputation forever if she was dropped from the Army because of something so tenuous like a fight, even if it was just verbal. She knew Sink would throw her out. The men would win if they rejected her over a conflict.

It was only the second day, and she was forced to make a decision.

She felt her hands squeeze into fists, and James’s voice telling her to get ‘im before he can get you echoed in her head. She tensed, not knowing what Luz was going to do. He didn’t strike her as volatile, but she couldn’t be sure with any man. She’d try one more attempt at diplomacy.

“It’s time for lights-out soon,” she murmured. “Shouldn’t you be heading back to your billet?” she said, not looking at him.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” he said in a suddenly light tone, but June knew it might be forced. “Toye, Tab,” said Luz over June’s shoulder. Neither Luz nor June had moved a step back. Men had strange ways of showing strength. June wasn’t going to back down, though. She was there to play the game. And it meant complying with masculine stereotypes of physical fortitude.

A low whistle came from the back of the billet. “Nice going, Luz,” came a sarcastic comment from someone, maybe Malarkey. June wasn’t sure how to take that comment, but it was fine. The remark wasn’t for her to react to.

June’s body had geared up for a fight, and she only relaxed when Luz left with the two others, leaving a gust of air in their wake and the sound of the door banging on the frame. June dropped the envelope, letter, and pen onto her bed and sat, never able to do anything about the persistent stares.

She wanted to stand up and tell her billet to man up – stop tiptoeing around her while making her feel the most uncomfortable she had been in her life. The sustained tension that started when June had first encountered Guarnere on Friday had never stopped. In fact, it worsened with each hour as June could feel the men trying to find a boundary to draw lines between them and her – box her into an invisible closet that was easy to ignore. Either that or poke at her until she swung back.

She wished she could escape the rest of the world; just shut it out for a few hours and forget that Luz was probably now harboring a grudge against her. Depending on how he told the story, the entire rest of his billet would be, too. Because it was always the woman’s fault for being hard-to-get.

June ran her hands through her hair. Hell, it had to be so difficult.

She curled up around the letter as she sat on the edge of the mattress, re-reading it twice more before stuffing it into an envelope. She’d find out Everett’s base address later, somehow.

She didn’t notice that when she pulled her knees up and turned over the envelope in her hands, Lipton was keeping an eye on her from his corner.

♤

Sunday was more of the same level of tension. Some of the men went to chapel, and June ended up going too, if only to occupy her mind a little bit. She didn’t dislike chapel, per se. It was a little bit more relaxing than any of the other heavily-congregated areas in camp, and she took the moment of preaching to slip into a daze that she’d never had the opportunity to have.

She would never miss church, on principle, but this particular chapel session was so different that it took her a while to get used to. The minister droned in a predictable cadence of words, and she slipped into a mindless, meandering sequence of thought, holding her Bible in her lap and promising herself she’d check out Romans 14 later.

Chapel and breakfast were both surprisingly uneventful, though not without their standard share of unwanted attention and anxiety. Afterwards, June mailed the letter after finding a small slip of paper Everett had given her: she’d brought it with her because he’d written down a few notes that she had shoved between the pages of her Bible as a bookmark. At the bottom, there was a scrawl of address in case she needed to reach him, and she’d been reminded of it when she retrieved her Bible for Chapel. She sewed her private’s chevrons onto her sleeves after she managed to figure out the Army sewing kit she’d received with her standard-issue kit.

Then, she went to clean her boots.

There was a spigot near the field where the men filled their canteens, and she brought her boots, soap, her towel, and a cleaning brush that she’d managed to scrounge somehow by visiting the camp PX. She’d spent too many dollars on it, but there wasn’t anything else she was saving to buy.

The corner of the training field was empty, and the darkness of the Georgia forest created a comforting wall, devoid of onlookers, that June could turn her back to. She rolled her trouser bottoms up to her calves, and pulled her shirt sleeves to the elbow. And then she took off her boots, stepping lightly with her bandaged feet on the earthy ground.

She pumped the spigot and wet her hands, rubbing at the bar of soap and lathering it onto the boots. Re-wetting the leather caused the smell of blood to reactivate, and June was hit with an unpleasant waft of coppery stink. Coughing slightly, June worked the bar of soap in and out of the boot, sliding it along the heel especially. By the time she was done soaping the boots, her arms were smeared with sheer washes of red up to the elbow. She was careful not to get any on her uniform, and she crouched with her bare feet on the cool, dry soil away from the cement, aware that she was getting her feet dirty but not caring once she got into the task.

Some dish soap would have been optimal, but June knew she wouldn’t want to go and wrangle it from the kitchen.

The rhythm of scrubbing the boots up with soap became mind-numbing and pleasant. June sweated a little in the sun, but the shade of the nearby trees casted shade over the spigot bowl, and once in a while a breeze passed through, lifting June’s unpinned hair from her shoulders. She lost track of time, working over every inch of the boots, hoping the stain would come out.

After a while of going back and forth on both boots – insole, laces, and all – June decided that the dark of the boots was going to hide any stain that didn’t come out. Besides, they needed time to dry and the morning was turning warm. She rinsed them out below the spigot, having slight difficulty maneuvering herself to stay dry while also holding the boots under the spray. She somehow rinsed them to a point she deemed sufficient, and then put her arms under the water, washing away the last of the blood. She watched it mix with the granular dirt left in the basin and swirl down into the drain.

June dried the boots with her towel, pleased to find no more red when she patted them dry. The insoles would have to take more time to let go of the water, but she sponged off the water as best she could and put them back on, making her way back to the billet. Once she was back, she set the boots out in the sun and sat next to them, hoping they’d dry by 0600 the next day. She regarded the boots with an amount of protective worry. Just in case someone decided to mess with her paratrooper boots, June decided to sit with them.

She left them alone momentarily and came back outside with new bandages and plasters, propping one foot on the thigh of one leg and seeing how they were healing. The blisters had been so bad that she knew they were going to take a week or two to heal, but she’d be running the next day. She tore open the foot powder packets and sprinkled them on, and then replaced the old dressings with new ones, patting on plasters over the top. She’d bandage her feet better the next day, but she let them dangle off the billet as she sat with her boots.

The entire Sunday, June passed the time sitting with her boots, getting sun and trying to enjoy the calm before the storm. She didn’t want to be stared at constantly whenever soldiers walked by, but there was no other alternative. For hours, June sat, reading her Bible, sketching on pieces of paper, and passing the time by idly watching a baseball game through the gaps between billets.

A book appeared next to June around noon. She looked up to see an attractive Private with dark hair, pale skin, and startlingly blue eyes, hovering awkwardly. June became aware she was staring and she looked back down. He didn’t look familiar, but June had yet to get used to the men in her company

She waited for him to say something, folding up her rough sketches of birds and placing it below her folded legs.

“It just looked like you needed something to read,” he got out. “I, um…” he said, looking everywhere but June’s face. “I walked by and you looked bored. I have a lot of books, so don’t feel bad,” he said, pointing to the book. The Sun Also Rises.

“Hemingway,” June read. The man nodded.

“I’m Diedtrich,” June said cautiously, wondering if this was a trap of some sort.

“I know,” he said. “Webster.”

They shook hands, not too awkwardly, but with June standing barefoot on dirt. Her cheeks reddened. It was not the ideal way to meet someone new.

“What happened to your boots?” Webster asked, eyeing the drying shoes.

“Bled on ‘em,” June said. “Ruck marches. I wasn’t prepared.”

Webster nodded, somewhat distantly, noticing June’s feet, half covered with plasters.

“Thanks for the book,” June said. “How do I get it back to you?”

Webster shrugged casually, although June noticed that his eyes did linger on the book. “I don’t want to give you a deadline or anything.”

“I can drop it at your billet,” June said.

“Uh, sure. I’m in Fox Company, so it’s right over there,” he said, giving June the billet number and waving down the path in its direction. He then looked around the general area self-consciously, looking as if he attempted to pass off the gesture as a normal thing to do. June knew men must be paranoid if they were seen interacting with her. The outsider.

“Nice meeting you,” June said, with an air of formality. “Don’t want to get caught talking to me, do you?” she said, attempting a speck of levity. It wasn’t really humor because it was true, and it was what both of them were probably thinking.

Some expression flashed across Webster’s face in an instant, and June tried to place it once it was gone. Maybe something like pity? Whatever it was, it made June a little uncomfortable, as if Webster had asked her how she was doing or if she’d made any friends. It was gone fast, though, replaced with a neutral smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“See you later,” he said quietly, and June watched him go down the rows and turn off to go somewhere off the thoroughfare. Anywhere else than with June, maybe.

June finished the book by the time it was almost lights out, raptly scanning the words until she reached the end, windows dark outside and all the men back in the billet. She’d taken it to chow twice, finding the company of a book the best distraction yet to catcallers in the mess hall. After she hit the last page and closed the back cover, June placed the book into her footlocker, grateful for Webster’s small gesture, even if it was a gesture made from unearned sympathy.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fic #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war #hbo war fic #fanfic #sister-in-arms #run the gauntlet #writing

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hakesbrother · 2 years ago

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artisticestheticreads · 6 years ago

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XI // CheckMate

[Element by Kendrick Lamar plays]

It was the day after Sierra Mona’s service and Maxine wanted off with Carlos and his goons. She stood in a room full of about fifty people under Rodney’s house. Everyone wore black hoodies, cargo pants and combat boots with their undivided attention on her and Donnie. Maxine done enough crying and now it was time for blood. Rodney stood to her right and Donnie to her left; Maxine finally spoke. “Good morning, everyone. I know it’s a tad bit early but we got a lot of shit to cover. With the lost of a woman who was family to me, I’m a little hungry for vengeance. I hope y’all don’t mind.”; silence fellthe room. She raised a brow and nodded with a smirk. “Good. Because we move out in about, I’ll say, about two days. I know I’m new to this but I’m ready for any fuckin’ thing. It was one thing to get his boys to take me out with their bare hands BUT it’s another thing to gun down my impregnated friend.”

She began pacing the floor with her arms folded. “So, Rod mentioned to me that no one in here is the rat which is good, for y’all. He also mentioned to Big Dawg and myself that Carlos ships out shit from New York and Texas but he is in the A Town, Big Peach.. Atlanta, Georgia. His hometown, rumor has it. So we will be splitting into teams with cargo and ammunition provided by Jean.” She nodded towards him and he returned it. “Two teams will all be in a variety of transportation dressed normal workers to avoid any unwanted attention. Jean will stay back home to care for his family and so will Tariq since he is injured. Babe, you split the teams.” She stood behind him as he stood in front of her. He lifted his arms and split them inches away from one another. He looked to his right and said “Beta, you will be heading to Houston, Texas. Rodney will be giving you your “care packages” and anything else you’ll may need.” He looked to his left then said “You’ll be the omega team and heading to New York. We already took care of everyone’s ticket for your group and your flight leaves tonight at eight. Jean’s brother has all the shit you need.” He put his arms down and looked down at the middle. “You will be Alpha team and you’ll have me, Baby Girl and Rod right along with you. I wanna take out that muthafucka myself.”

He looked around the room then at Rod. “Follow me to the dining room to get all you need as in more information. Transportation will be ready tomorrow morning at five. Meeting dismissed.” Rodney lead the groups upstairs to get everything leaving Maxine and Donnie alone sitting at the conference table. “We will be staying at the Marriott in downtown ATL. The Presidential Suite with concierge lounge access, 1 bedroom suite, a king sized bed, and 1.5 bath. Nothing but the best for my queen” he kissed her hand as she smiled. “We need to get someone to watch Abel. I don’t want him alone”, she said. “We’ll find someone. Don’t worry. Let’s get on out of here and pack our shit for our flight. We roll out tomorrow afternoon.” He grabbed her hand as they walked out.

[ELEMENT by Kendrick Lamar fades; LOVE by Kendrick Lamar starts]

They went back home and started packing. The ammunition was on their way to their pinpoints and the troops were all saying goodbye to their families and heading out. Maxine packed everything into their shared suitcase as Don got their carry on bags ready; both had a black leather mock croc quilted nylon backpack. As he packed the bags on the bed where we sat, he watched Maxine in the closet packing. She paid him no mind as he slipped a secretive velvet box into his bag. Maxine came out with their shared suit case with two crowns painted on them. She placed the bags by the front door and made a phone call. “Hey, Justin”, she said as she sat on the bed beside Donnie. “So, Don and I are going out of town for a while and we was wondering if you can watch our place and Abel?” She nodded and said “yeah our flight is tomorrow at noon but we gonna get their way earlier because we packed a lot of stuff.” She laughed and replied “yeah, a whole lot. Can you get here at eight so we can run through somethings?” She smiled and said “thanks, babes. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up and saw Donnie looking at her.

“You got something to say”, she said as he smiled. He shook his head and held her close to him. “Baby, you know there is no turning back now, right?” She looked at him and kissed his lips. “I know. We gotta end this all or we’ll both be next.” He nodded as he rubbed her back and kissed her neck. She straddled his lap and held his face in her hands while kissing him. “This might be our last time making love, Donnie.” He looked up into her worried eyes and said “baby, kings and queens don’t die. We got each other, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I got you.” He held her face to his and began kissing her on the lips softly while pulling her hoodie off. She did the same for him, never breaking the kiss. He unhooked her bra with one hand and threw it to the side; placing her right nipple in his mouth. She ran her fingers through his kinky curls and moaned softly while smelling his hair; the scent of black castor oil filled her nostrils. He held the small of her back as he placed the other in his mouth. He lied her on her back and stood while looking at her. He thought about the first time they met at the club on his 30th birthday. The fire in her eyes, her tempting skin and the way her aura was the reason they got here, together. He always kind of knew she could be the one, he just knew that it had to be her.

Maxine rested on her elbows and looked up to him. She thought about their first kiss. The one they shared when Don asked her to be his lady. The way his lips felt all over her. The way he held her so close in those arms. He always made her feel protected, like she was secured even when he wasn’t around. He stripped out of his clothes and gently took her cargos off. He started to kiss her from her head and down to her stomach with soft kisses. He took her lace panties off and kissed her inner thighs with his eyes closed. She let out soft moans and felt tears streaming down her cheeks. He placed her legs on each of his shoulders and began pleasing her slowly, mouth and fingers being used; he wanted to make ever second count. He wanted to make love to her like never before because this might be the last time they had the chance to do so. Her body began shaking indicating she was close and as she did, he kissed her body again starting at her vagina and to her lips. He scoot her body to the middle of the bed and hovered over her. He saw the little tears she had and he used his finger to wipe them away. “Pas de larmes ce soir, mon amour.” She nodded and held him close to her chest as he inserted inside of her. She would miss the way he filled her. The way he pleased her, mentally and physically. The way he looked at her in the eyes.

As he was thrusting into her slowly, he looked into her eyes as she moaned. He could see so much love and care in them. She was the ONLY woman who made all the stress disappear with one touch. He thought of being with her for a life time. Now, he might be right or wrong but for now he tried to not think about it. “Je t'aime, Maxine Piers”, he groaned. She smiled at how he loved showing how good she made him feel. She moaned “Je t'aime aussi, Donnie Wilkerson.” He began to speed up just a little and held her close. He loved the way her hands feel. He placed his head in the crook of her neck and smelled a mixture of their scents intertwining with one another. He could feel Maxine getting close as she clenched around him like a glove. She had moans spilling from her mouth and finally came. He kept going until he can feel himself doing the same. “Shiiiiit.” He finally did so, looked down at her and placed a kiss on her forehead.

The Next Morning; 7:45 am

Maxine and Donnie had just gotten out the shower together and started getting dressed; of course in all black with plain v-necks, jeans with rips and comfortable shoes for the long ride. Maxine put her jewelry and grill in a safe baggy and placing it her bag. Donnie put his chain on and did the same for Maxine; they looked inside of the mirror and saw their reflections. They saw determination, ambition and anger. Donnie kissed the top of her head and took her hand as the door bell rung. It was Justin in a sweatsuit and a overnight bag. “Good morning, guys”, he said not sounding like himself. “How you holdin’ up, babe” Maxine asked. Justin shook his head and said “I can’t be there. It’s just not the same anymore without her”; he couple nodded in agreement and Maxine rubbed his hand into her hers. Donnie spoke “so, uh, you’ll be in the guest room. There are some fresh towels and everything you need in there. Abel is in the back sleep.” Justin nodded and looked around. “You can trust me, guys.” Maxine held Justin and kissed his cheek while rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Justin. It’ll be okay.” They let go of each other when they got a text from Rodney. ”I’m here in the UberXL.” They looked at each other, grabbed their bags and left out the door as Justin watched.

They drove off in the truck and everyone sat in complete silence until the UBER driver started to talk. “So, you guys going to LAX, uh? Where you heading?” Maxine rolled her eyes and said “Occupe-toi de tes affaires,imbécile.” They all smiled at her reaction. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know y’all spoke French”, the driver replied before driving silent. Donnie looked at her and smiled before saying “Tellement impoli, mon amour.” Rodney added “Eh bien, merde. Cela a fonctionné cependant” with a chuckle. Donnie held her hand and kissed it as she smiled at him. They soon arrived to LAX and checked in. They all walked through with the terminal looking for their destination. They went by Starbucks first to get coffee first and went to sit and wait for their flight for 11:45 am.

[GOD by Kendrick Lamar plays]

Rodney, Donnie and Maxine sat next to one another. Maxine leaned over to Rodney. “Rod, is the shipment there?” He nodded. “Jean has his boys guarding it at their location Downtown.” She nodded and looked at Donnie as she sat back. She sipped her Mocha Frappuccino® made with almond milk and no whip cream with her headphones on looking at the files on each of Carlos’ men. Donnie leaned in to whisper something in Rodney’s ear; Rodney nodded and shook his hand. Donnie looked at Maxine then at his phone to check on every team. The Texas team was already an hour away from their location and New York were already at their hotel getting ready for orders. The Alpha team wanted to ride in the van with shipment so they were on their way to Atlanta for the hit tomorrow evening; they started their trip yesterday afternoon and were about eight hours away taking turns driving.

1:00 pm pst

They were finally on their American Airline flight and the plane took off. Donnie moved his arm rest from between Maxine and himself to hold her close. She looked up at him and smiled. “You okay, babe”, she asked. He nodded and said “I’m just proud of you, Maxine”. “Why?” He shrugged. “Because you planned this shit all by yourself. You make a great Queen.” He pulled her in closer and she rested her head in his chest. The flight was long as heck but he enjoyed every minute; Maxine was fell asleep and he played with the tip of her locks. They were together at the end of all of this. In each other’s arms after the war. Happy in there bed again but then she looked up and he was gone. She tried calling his name but no sound came out. She looked everywhere but he was no where in sight. She went to the backyard and saw Abel howling and crying. She looked to the pool and saw nothing but red liquid. She got closer and saw Donnie’s body floating to the top, lifeless. She tried pulling him out the pool but her grip kept slipping. She let out silent screams and felt a pair of strong hands on her. Maxine’s eyes flew open to Donnie and he smiled at her. She looked around and saw people leaving the plan. “Welcome to the Big Peach.”

[GOD by Kendrick Lamar ends and YAH plays]

6:40 pm est

They stood at baggage claim to retrieve their bags and made it outside waiting for their ride. The sky was already dark with a purple sunset. Maxine looked up at the sky and smiled. “It’s amazing.” He looked at her and said “yeah, it is.” Their ride pulled up and they drove off to the I-85 North in Fulton County from the South Terminal Pkwy, followed the I-85 N to Atlanta, took the exit for 248C from I-75 N/I-85 North and continued on Andrew Young International Blvd NE and finally arrived to the hotel. Rodney grabbed his duffel bag and backpack before holding the door open for Don and Maxine. Maxine wore her bag in while Donnie rolled their huge huge suitcase in. The bell boys came to them with their keys, helped them to their room and said “your shipment is inside your rooms. enjoy your stay”; they winked and left. Rodney went to his room next door and the couple went into theirs. Maxine looked around and was amazed. The room itself was like a lavish apartment. Maxine took her bag off and placed it on the couch before taking her shoes off. She sat down and took everything in. “Is it nice, baby?” She nodded and bit her lip. He sat the luggage by the door and sat beside her, holding her.

His phone started to vibrate and it was a call from one of the Los Angeles troops’ he put it on speaker phone and placed on the table. “Hey, boss. We see that you made it safe. We all ready for the attack tomorrow. Jean is here with us now.” Maxine poured some white wine that sat in the ice bucket into a glass and sipped. “Put us on speaker”, said Don in as serious tone. Jean began speaking. “Hello, Big Dawg. Hello, Lady Dawg.” Maxine smiled and said “hi, Jean. So, have the New York team been told their plan?” “Yes. Apparently, Carlos is located near Trump Towers right around the corner. We have cameras on them that my brother put in himself this morning.” Donnie nodded “good thing them muthafuckas needed camera work done.” Jean replied “exactly, boss. They didn’t expect a thing. Dumb fuckers.” Maxine sipped from her glass with a smile before speaking. “So, you can see everything, correct?” “Yes, ma’am.” We also found away to tap into the cameras systems for Houston and the ATL as well. Wasn’t easy but we did. Also, I’ll have you rides ready tomorrow. Y’all be riding in style.” Donnie said “good job, man. Just stay home and keep us updated. You’ll be safe there and you can take care of your family.” Jean replied “yes, Sir. I’ll send the footage to all the vans computers and do everything to make this easy. And by the way, I got a little gift for you two in your glove compartments. Get some sleep, man.” He hung up and looked to Maxine who smiled at him. “You ready, baby girl?” She smiled “I’m ready, Big Don.”

The Next Morning; 10:50 am

[YAH ends and BOSS by The Carters play]

The Alpha team all met in their room which held all of them on the couch; thirty members. Rodney stood on one end them while Maxine and Don stood at the other beside her. “Good morning, men”, said Donnie. “So, I take it that everyone has what they need, yes?” Everyone nodded and Donnie looked at Maxine as began to speak to the men. “Okay, here is the deal, men. Jean sent us all footage to all of our vans of the warehouses.” She looked at the conference phone on the coffee table and began. “Apparently, neither of our locations know where we are. Which is good. So this can be an easy attack. According to Jean, we all have bulletproof suits that will protect us all from shots being fired. Omega team, you’ll be posing as ambulance and firefighters. We have an actor out there to pretend to be hurt in front of the building and that’s when you come in, ambulance will take the supplies while firefighters take them bitches out.” The Omegas, who were on the conference call, replied. “Yes, ma’am.”

She spoke again. “Betas, you will be posing as waiters and staff since they do their work at a motel. We paid the owner good money to keep his mouth shut. Staff get supplies and waiters gun them down, got it?” Betas responded and her attention went to the men the room. “Alphas, you’ll all be just in all black. If we roll up there, we rollin’ in style, men. Cargos, hoodies, leather jackets and combat boots. In your bags, you all received ski masks and full bulletproof suits. There is about thirty of you so fifteen will go with Rodney to get all supplies and money while the rest will be guarding us and taking everyone except for Carlos.” She looked at Donnie and said “that’s the king’s job.” Donnie finally spoke. “We move out in transportation in five hours.” Everyone set their timers and looked at one another while rising. Donnie said “what do you guys have to say to Max? On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” “Welcome to the Team, Queen Maxine.” She smiled as she thought about her old team at her past job and thanked them all. “Meeting dismissed.” Everyone hung up and the men in the room left.

Three Hours Later

Donnie and Maxine held each other in a warm embrace. “No going back now”, she said looking up at him and he shook his head. “Nope.” They began to get ready. Donnie placed their suitcase that Jean gave them and opened. Inside, there were two of each for both of them, glocks, HK USP Tacticals, and UZI Pistols. In suit bags, they both had tailored suits and dress shirts. Maxine looked at him confused and he smiled; he loved when she made that face. “These are bulletproof suits. Everyone else have the basic ones but I want my queen to be in style.” She smiled and started to unpack everything so they can both be prepare. She wore a black lace set, her dreads in a ponytail, the outfit Jean provided and a pair of black heels. Donnie got dressed and wore black dress shoes. They both grabbed their holsters and packed their guns in. They threw their coats on, buttoned them and looked in the mirror before adding on the finishing touches. He put on his chains, diamonds studs, grill and rings while she did the same.

She noticed a note from Jean. "Hola, Maxine. En caso de que las cosas vayan hacia el sur, he proporcionado cierta protección adicional en tu bota derecha. Solo da un puntapié en la dirección y estarás bien". She smiled and nodded. Donnie asked “what does the note say?” She looked at him with smirk and said “we will see”. They locked up the room and left as Donnie spoke to Rodney through the mic on his earpiece. “Aight, Rod. We are on way down. Is our ride here?” “Um, Big Dawg. You gotta see this.” They hurried down stairs to the lot and saw Rodney with the cars. They were all matte black with gold accents to them; a Chrysler 300, Jeep Wrangler and BMW i8. “These are nice”, Maxine said with a big smile. Jean spoke to them through their ear pieces. “Okay, team. Carlos and his boys just arrived to the warehouse. It’s an unmarked brown building on Luckie Street. You should find it because it’s the only brown building. Don’t let the look fool you, it’s nice as hell on the inside. Now, Maxine you got the i8, Don has the Jeep and Rod got the 300. Don’t worry, they are all bullet proof. ” They all got in and got comfortable with hands on their steering wheels and starting their cars.

[APE SHIT by THE CARTERS play with intense bass]

Don said “betas ready?” The Beta team replied dressed in the transportation. “Ready.” Rodney said “omega, we good?” Omega replied “we in this muthafucka.” Maxine then said ‘What about you, Alphas? Are we ready?” Alpha announced “yes, Queen.” She smiled as they all pulled off. Maxine drove ahead of the pack with Donnie behind to her right and Rodney to her left. The matte black vans drove in front making the group of cars in the shape of an ‘X’. Jean talked into the leader’s earpiece. “Ok, guys in twenty five minutes I will be knocking out all cameras and that will give y’all time to get in with out being detected. Now, Rod in your backseat, you have bulletproof head gear.” He saw the swat team looking mask that had gold trimming and the name ROD written on it and put it on. He replied. “Thanks, man.” Jean told Donnie and Maxine “you two have bullet proof masks but not just ordinary masks. Open your glove compartments.” They both did; Maxine saw a matte black mask with gold studs on it and grabbed it to put it on. “Got it, Jean. Thank you”, she said. Don saw a white and gold skull mask and was impressed. He moved his twists to the back to put his masks on.

Back in Los Angeles, Justin was in the guest room looking at Netflix when he heard a big knock at the door. It startled him and he instantly called Maxine; she answered with it on speaker phone. “What’s wrong, Justin?” “There is someone knocking on the door”, he said still shook. Donnie could hear them and said “shit, they know where we stay. Babe, tell him to grab the pistol I placed under the bed!” Maxine had a scrunched up face and said “Don said grab the gun under the bed.” Justin looked under and, sure enough, there was a silver handgun under the bed. He grabbed it and his hand couldn’t stop shaking. “I got it. N-now what?” Maxine said “go to the door and look through the peep hole. Control your breathing.” He did what he was told and then a voice belted through. “Max, open the door. It’s Candy and Ricky JR.” Maxine heard the voice and told Don “it’s Candace.” Don said “he can open it”. Max told Justin to open the door. He did so and she had a worried look on her face. “Who are you”, she asked. “I’m Justin. I’m house sitting.” “Can I come in?” He stood to the side as they walked in. He locked the door and stood by her. “I need to talk to her. Give her phone”, Maxine said. He handed the phone to her and Maxine started talking. “Candy, what’s wrong?” “TARIQ IS MISSING!” Maxine was worried. “Ricky is missing?!” Don and Rod heard her and were also grew worried but still focus.

That was until Rodney saw six motorcycles rolling behind them. “Don, we got visitors, blood.” Don looked back and saw the bikes. Maxine looked in her rear view mirror and saw them, too. “Candy, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Just stay with Justin and you’ll be safe.” She hung up and looked towards Don. “ALPHA! We got visitors. Assume the positions” he said. The vans pulled back and Rod, Max and Don were now in front speeding, the vans swerved to block the first four bikes but two sped up and eight more came out of nowhere. “Jean, we got bikes on us”, Rod said. Jean said in a calm voice “you have AK47 under the passenger seats! ” Maxine let off shots at the two that rode in front of them and watching them fall. Rod aimed for the two on his right and they fell hard to the concrete ground; he had to congratulate himself with a howl. Don set off rounds in the men on his left and they flew off their bikes and crashed into street poles. They all continued driving and then all of sudden a bike stopped in front of Maxine’s car and held out a machine gun. She steered with her left hand and set off a clip into his skull with her right. Don swerved into the biker and got back in place.

“Thanks, my king.” “Don’t mention it, Queen.” More bikes came out and had names written on their jackets. Christian, Mario, Navo, Enrique and Tico Jr. “We got more”, Maxine said. Rodney said “fuck, Tico had a baby boy.” Donnie chuckled and said “they’ll be together soon.” Jean said “Rod you gotta leave them and get to the warehouse with the vans. We need them now!” Rod yelled out “FUCK! good luck”; he drove off with the Alphas leaving Maxine and Donnie to take care of the bikers. “Babe, take out Navo and Tico. I got Christian, Mario and Enrique”, Don said. Maxine reloaded her gun and aimed for Nav and Jr.; she got both easily. “Sorry, fellas. No hard feelings?” Donnie chuckled at her. Donnie aimed for the other biker gas line and saw each one blow except for Enrique who drove off in between the smoke and fire. They lost him but that was until the masked driver appeared on the left of Maxine’s car and said “Bienvenido a Atlanta, hijos de puta” while pointing his gun. All of sudden, she felt like she was yanked from the car and placed into the passenger side of Don’s. She looked to Donnie who crashed Maxine’s car into the rider; Maxine shut her door and buckled up. “Sorry, Jean.”, Donnie said. Jean laughed “I’m used to it by now, man. The cameras are out so make your way, now.” They turned onto Luckie Street and Maxine saw the building.

They pulled up to the corner and sat there as they watched each camera of all of Carlos buildings. She saw the teams ready to take orders; Maxine began to speak to the teams. “Everyone in place?” Everyone said yes. “On my count, Beta and Omega move on in. Trois. Deux. Un!!” They did what the were told. She heard gun shots go off and it pleased her as she watched them go off. She looked to Donnie and said “ready?” Donnie nodded as he said “Rod, move in.” They got out with guns ready. “We are right behind you.” The Alpha team stood in front of them and started to take out guards and watched them fall like dominos. Don and Max ran behind them and went to the elevator. “Rod, take your team downstairs. The supply is down there and take all of that my money”, Donnie yelled and Rod ran with his team. “Alpha, take the stairs and let us now when you up there on the fourth floor. Be generous with they the clips and light they ass up.” Maxine said and then she spoke again. “You five, get on. We will need you.” They all went their ways and Max pressed the fifth floor. Don lifted his mask over his hair and looked at Max; she did the same. “Maxine, before we get off. I just wanna say that I am very proud of you and that I am in love with you. You’re my everything. You're my lady. I love you so much. I am very lucky to have someone like you by my side.” She felt tears come down and he wiped them off. “Thugs don’t cry, baby.” He kissed her and put her mask back on then he did the same for herself. They loaded their guns as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

[Left, Right by YG plays]

The five Alpha members began shooting at incoming guards and henchmen. Donnie and Maxine were also setting off rounds into bodies and reloading at the same time. One guy came from the corner to Maxine and she had to show what was up. She was giving him blow after blow with her new gold brass knuckles. She watched him fall then set a bullet off between his eyes. Two more came up and she ducked every punch coming her way; she started to them with a right, left. She caught up with the team and started shooting again. Both Omega and Beta were about done and heading back to the vans. “Queen we got everything. Wer are out.” Max spoke. “Good job guys. Roll out.” More men came out and soon fell to the ground. All of a sudden, the lights flickered on and off. “What’s going on? Rod, what the fuck?!”, yelled Donnie.”We got everything but...the Rat is...” Rodney said before the earpieces went out followed by a woman’s scream hit Donnie’s ear along with some gunshots. The lights went on and his men were lied on the ground and Maxine was missing. He screwed up his face and yelled “MAX?!?!?!? Baby?!?!?!” ; he got hit in the side of his head.

He woke up lying on hard cold floor with his mask & jacket off, along with no weapons and tried to get up but felt the barrel of a gun to the back of his head. He looked up in front of him and saw a man crouched down in front of him. “Hey, man. Long time no see”, the Latin man gave him a smile. Don looked him in the eye and said “Carlos?” Carlos patted his cheek and said “my, my. You getting big on me man. I remembered when you were a young fool.” He walked around is desk and said “and now you a old fool.” He lit his cigar and Donnie looked around the room that was full of about fifteen Hispanic men surrounding him. The room was dark and the air was dry and humid. He felt defeated and can only think about Maxine and her smile. He began to speak “where is my lady, Carlos?” Carlos smirked at him and snapped his fingers.

Donnie looked up and saw Maxine come out of a dark corner with a mystery figure who had a mask on and an all green biker suit like the man Enrique did. He threw Maxine on the ground next to Carlos desk and looked at Donnie. Her head had dry blood, along with her nose and she didn’t have her suit jacket or shirt on. Donnie’s eyes grew wide as he saw the woman he loved like this. He promised to protect her and he failed. Carlos looked over nonchalant. “Tsk. Tsk. You didn’t learn from the last bitch, huh?” Donnie looked up and met Carlos, eye to eye. “How the fuck did you know we were out here, man?” Carlos looked at Enrique and nodded to him. Enrique slowly walked up to Donnie and crouched down to him. He took off his mask and Donnie’s face was scrunched up with disgust. “TARIQ?!?!?!?!?!” Maxine looked up from the ground and felt her blood boil.

Tariq looked at him and said “that ain’t my name, Donald. The name’s Enrique Munoz, the right hand man and business partner of this corporation.” Maxine looked at Carlos who paid her no mind and noticed he had a handgun in his belt buckle. Tariq circled around Donnie and began speaking again. “You see, I was supposed to end your life a long time ago after you birthday actually but then Maxine came in the picture. When I saw how you looked at her, I thought to be nice and let you get some pussy before but then I was told not to. Carlos and I had a lot shit to get done. Then, Maxine moved in and ruined the whole fucking thing. Then, her ratchet ass gang came around and made things more complicated.” Maxine looked at him and asked “what about you getting shot?” Enrique laughed and said while still looking at Donnie. “Maxine, that was my plan. Do you really think I would look that bad from a shoulder wound? I was only grazed.” “Does Candy know?” He said with a eye roll. “Candace is a fuckin’ idiot. She thinks my real name is Tariq and that I’m actually black.” He looked at Maxine with a smirk across his face and said “how is Sierra Mona doing btw”, turned back around, Maxine felt her adrenaline pump again and her fists balled up.

“And then, Max took out Tico, my cousin and that’s when I knew I had to take her out, too but you two were always together.” He pulled a gun out and aimed it at the top of Don’s right shoulder and shot into it. Maxine’s cried and then remembered what Jean said in the note. She looked at her heels and got on her left knee to Carlos causing Tariq to point his gun at her. Carlos said “what the hell is she doing!?” Maxine hung her head and said “we surrender, Carlos. You won.” He looked at the men and clapped. “Wooow. A beautiful black submissive kneeling before me. Is today my birthday?” Everyone laughed except Donnie, who shook his head in confusion. Once everyone stopped, Carlos stood in front and she looked up at him with a smile on her face, remembering what Sierra Mona said to her on her death bed. “I almost forgot. Queens don’t kneel down for anyone, ever.”

With she pushed him against the table and before he reached for his gun, she gave him a nice Mawashi geri kick to his through with back of her heel and a long knife came out. She froze as he watched the blood gush all over the table. She ripped the knife from is neck while everyone in the room stood still and then Tariq aimed the gun. She picked up Carlos’ body using it as a shield, grabbed his gun and aimed it at Tariq then said “ Ven a mí, puto!!!” She let off multiple rounds in his chest, his head hit the table, Rodney and the men busted through the doors and let off rounds at Carlos’ men who had their guns on Maxine. She dodged under the table, peeked over to Donnie and pulled his body underneath. Maxine used the knife from her boot to cut fabric from Carlos’ shirt to tie up around Donnie’s wound to stop bleeding. She wrapped it up and continued the fight; grabbing Tariq and Carlo’s hand gun. She got back unfer to tend to Donnie. “Baby Girl, you saved me.” She looked at him in his eyes and kissed him. “That’s because I’m in love with you too, baby. And you damn sure not leaving me with these crazy muthafuckas.” They laughed and she helped him up as the shots stop.

[LOYALTY by Kendrick Lamar plays]

Two Days Later

Donnie was out the hospital and Maxine was right there the whole time. She helped him get dressed in the same outfit she had on; white tee, jeans and Air Max 90. The men were all on their way back to California but unfortunately ten didn’t survive. Rodney was in front of the hospital in their rented car, well, van with all their belongings while the alpha team drove the goods to the LA. He held the door open for Donnie who had an arm sling with a cast and Maxine who was just glad Donnie survived the surgery. She lied her head on his left shoulder and held him close. “You did great, baby. Especially with the Bruce Lee kick.” They all laughed until Donnie asked “does Candy know?” She nodded “yeah but I told her he tried to join in the battle but got shot in the process by Carlos and that ‘Tariq’s’ body will be transferred to Cali today for the funeral next week.” He nodded and said “damn, he was my boy. But rats gonna be rats.” Rod added “sorry, man. I’ve should’ve looked harder at his file.” Donnie shook his head. “Don’t be. His real name wasn’t on file.”

Soon, Maxine fell asleep because she was watching Don in the hospital and he found that this was the perfect opportunity to dig in his bag. They finally reached the airport and were on their way to their terminal. Maxine was in line for a strawberry acai from Starbucks when Don and Rod waited for her across the way. “So, when you gonna do it? You know if you don’t do it soon, Sierra said she was gonna haunt that ass”, Rodney said with a smile. Donnie looked at Rodney with a grin and said “very soon.” They all began walking to their location until Don “felt” a pain shoot up is arm and he got on both knees. Maxine gave Rod her drink who had his phone out towards them, worried as she tended to Donnie while crouching to him and looking in his face. “Baby, are you okay?!”, she asked. Donnie said, “Max, you know I love you right?” She nodded. “And that you’re my everything?” She nodded again, confused with smile. “And that you’re my lady.” He got off his left knee and looked at her as she tried to help him up but he declined. He dug in his arm brace and pulled out a blue velvet box and revealed a 14k white gold pave halo and shank diamond engagement ring; she stood there speechless. Donnie smiled up at her and said “well, I want you as my wife and the beautiful mother of my children. Maxine Piers, will you marry me?” She just stood there...

TRANSLATIONS

Pas de larmes ce soir, mon amour. -No tears tonight, my love.

Attention à vos affaires, imbécile - Mind your business, dumbass.

Tellement impoli, mon amour. - So rude, my love.

Eh bien, merde. Cela a fonctionné cependant - Well, shit. It worked

Hola, Maxine. En caso de que las cosas vayan hacia el sur, he proporcionado cierta protección adicional en tu bota derecha. Solo da un puntapié en la dirección y estarás bien" - Hello, Maxine. In case things go south, I have provided some additional protection in your right boot. Just kick in the direction and you'll be fine

Bienvenido a Atlanta, hijos de puta - Welcome to Atlanta, motherfuckers

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