Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jeff had been apologetic as he had handed their crying baby over, having tried for twenty minutes to settle him. It hadn’t been the start to his leave that they had hoped for when he had landed back on base just four hours earlier, when he had assured her that it was finally his turn to take the night shift with no need to worry over getting in the cockpit the following morning. 

They had just been getting to the fun part of removing each other's clothing when eight month old Scott had woken and demanded their attention. Jeff had promised he would be right back, but Lucy had known as thunder had rolled on the horizon that it would take longer for their little one to settle. 

She had caught the fall of Jeff’s features as Scott immediately settled in her arms. Balancing the baby on one side, she caught her husband by his waist to kiss his cheek.

“He’s just clingy right now, I’m sure he’ll be wanting you all day tomorrow.” She assured, “Go to bed.”

Jeff had smiled and kissed them both, earning a wet giggle from Scott, before he headed back along the hall to their room.

“Now,” She cooed as she bounced Scott in her arms, headed back to the nursery, “what’s wrong, Scotty?”

The thunder outside rolled closer, its boom not dissimilar to the jets they often watched coming and going on the runway. She could feel how her baby curled closer at the noise though, and knew that he was smart enough to know the difference. 

“That?” She asked softly as she pulled the curtain back, holding him so he could see the rain if he wanted to, “That’s just thunder, Scotty, just the gods moving their furniture about, my Momma used to say. There’s lots of stories about it though, the Greeks blame Zeus, and the Scandi’s blame Thor - but I think you’re a bit young to appreciate what Hemsworth did for Thor’s reputation.”

She smiled down to him as he watched her, not even noticing the flash of light beyond the window. Wiping his tears from his cheeks, she turned to the rocking chair and took a seat as she continued.

“I like the indigenous story the best, that there’s a great Thunderbird watching over us. He’s strong and powerful, but kind to those that ask for his help. It’s he that creates the storms and rain that water the crops on the farm,” She paused as the thunder rolled over the house, “Hear that? That’s his wings as he flies.”

Scott curled closer, his hand fisting in her dressing-gown. 

“It’s okay, baby.” She soothed, rocking the chair gently as she covered his hand with her own, “He won’t hurt you.”

Bending over him, she kissed his downy hair, “Momma won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

~

Lucy sighed as she killed the car engine, knowing she had put off the conversation as long as possible. She never made a habit of lying to her husband, but the bombshell that had been dropped on her required just a little time to process before she shared it with him. Telling him that her guest-lecture had run long hadn’t exactly been a lie, but booking an extra night in her hotel hadn’t exactly been warranted. 

Even when the two Generals had pulled her into an office for a private conversation.

Grabbing her bag from the back seat, she smiled to herself as she heard rather than saw the screen door crash open. Both blond heads racing towards her were fully expected as she dropped her bag to the ground to scoop them both up. 

“Mom!” Alan giggled as she lifted them both from the floor, “We missed you!”

“I missed you boys too.” She grinned to him, shifting her hold so she could ruffle Gordon’s hair, still damp from the shower, “Sorry I missed swim practice Kiddo, promise I’ll take you next week.”

Gordon’s grin was as wide as Alan’s as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “It’s okay Mom, Dad and Grandma both came to watch, and I beat Harrison finally!”

“Nice going!” She held her hand up for a high-five as Alan wriggled out of her hold and raced back towards the house. 

“Dad’s making pancakes to celebrate!” Alan called back, “Come on , Mom!”

Gordon ducked around her to grab the forgotten bag, hoisting it to his shoulder with an ease that belied his age. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” She smiled to him, catching him by the shoulders as they followed the youngest, “Is Vee up yet?”

Gordon scoffed, “It’s a Saturday .”

“Your father’s making pancakes.” She countered with a raise of her eyebrow, “They usually draw him out.”

“Nuh-uh,” Gordon shook his head, as he pulled the screen door open, “not when he was out all night smooching with his boyfriend.”

Had the blond not been so focussed on snitching to her about his immediate older brother, he might have noticed the footsteps on the stairs. 

“Dad let them stay out until eleven , that’s a whole hour after curfew, and even then he was ten minutes late.”

Lucy’s bag fell to the floor as the fish was scooped up by the brother in question and held in a backwards bear hug against his chest. 

“What were you doing awake to notice, fish ?”

Gordon squawked, drawing Alan and Jeff from the kitchen.

“Virgil! Put me down!”

Lucy shared a smile with her husband, both having anticipated the antics when they had discussed Virgil’s extended curfew over the phone the night before. They had been young once too, had also pushed the boundaries of what their parents - and later the Air Force - would allow. Jeff had told her he had seen the car pull up at ten-to, but it hadn’t been until ten-past that the screen door had squeaked open. 

“Virgil, put him down.” She instructed, “Gordon, don’t be a snitch, I’m sure your father dealt with the problem appropriately.”

The middle son huffed as he dropped the swimmer, the collar of his hoodie shifting slightly with the movement. 

Lucy pursed her lips as she swept past Gordon, pretending to remove some lint from Virgil’s top as she adjusted it to cover the discoloured skin at the base of his neck. His returning smile was plenty bashful as he shrugged at her, eyes drifting back to Gordon as the kid grumbled about rules and dates. 

“Next time, inside , by eleven.” She murmured, shaking her head with her own small smile. 

“Yeah,” His cheeks coloured, “sorry.”

“Boys, go and set the table.” Jeff ordered, “I’ll be through in a minute to serve up.”

Lucy smiled as she skirted the opposite way around the sofa to the three kids, meeting her husband half way and admiring the apron he only ever wore on Saturday mornings. 

“Hey,” He greeted as he wrapped his arms around her, “welcome home.”

A glance over his shoulder confirmed all three of the boys were busy arguing over who got which glass of juice.

“I need to talk to you, Cat three.” 

His frown was instant as he looked over her, eyes narrowed at the implication of their long-term code. 

“Are you okay ?” He asked as Alan called from the kitchen.

She nodded quickly, squeezing his waist, “I’m fit and healthy.” 

“Scott?”

She knew she couldn’t hesitate, not when they were both acutely aware of the war on the opposite side of the world that their eldest was waiting to be pulled into. 

“As far as I know, he’s fine.”

Jeff nodded, but she could tell from the way his hands had tightened on her arms that he was only partly satisfied.

“Mom was going to the market today, I’m sure I could ask her to take them.” 

Lucy nodded quickly, “I’ll go and call her now, save me a plate.” 

Jeff held onto her a moment longer before leaning in for a quick kiss, his lips barely pressing against hers before he pulled away again to check her over once more. 

“Love you.” She murmured, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Dad! Virgil’s touching the pancakes!”

“They’re gonna burn!” 

Lucy made her escape as he was distracted, pulling up her mother-in-laws number as she slipped into the office. Convincing Sally to take the boys would be easy, she knew the Grandmother would offer as soon as Lucy told her she needed time to talk to Jeff. 

Telling her husband that the USAF wanted her to come out of retirement, she wasn’t sure would come so easily. 

***

“You never even got a chance to work as a combat engineer, you got pregnant before they could deploy you!”

Lucy nodded from her seat on the coffee table, hands clasped together under her chin. Jeff had taken the news exactly as she had expected him to, the protective husband and father that he was shining through as soon as she had mentioned their old jobs. 

“I told them exactly that,” She murmured, “they still say I’m the most qualified person.”

“I don’t like it, Luce, not one bit.” He fell back against the sofa, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair, “You retired from the USAF years ago, you owe them nothing.”

Sitting forward, she reached out to take his hands. He was right, both of them had left the Air Force on good terms, herself through becoming a mother, and Jeff through his transfer to NASA. There had never been any interest in going back, no need for it when Lucy’s designs had been picked up on by CalTech and an offer put in place for her to study her doctorate. From there life had simply spiralled, her career fast tracked as opportunities had come from all directions, but it had been Jeff’s suggestion of their own business that had been the one to stick.

“The war is worse than the media are letting on, worse than most service-men on this side of the water realise.” She sighed, squeezing his hands, “I owe them nothing, but they need engineers capable of repairing planes and getting them back in the air ASAP.”

“They have other engineers.”

“None that can put an engine together in under half an hour, and few that are combat trained.”

Jeff sat forward again, twisting their hands to take hers in his. He held her eyes, like he always did when he was trying to understand her mad ideas, to see things from her point of view. 

“The business--”

“Will still have its CEO, and can survive without an engineer for a couple of months.”

His frown turned to a pout worthy of Alan, “You’re my best engineer.”

She leant forward, resting her forehead to his, “That’s not what you were telling Hiram the other day.”

His smile was wicked as his hands snaked around her waist, sneaking under her t-shirt to brush against the skin of her back, “Hiram isn’t going to jump into bed with me.”

His hands trailed down, playing with the waist of her leggings before slipping past the elastic. Dropping her lips to meet his, she couldn’t help but smile as he pulled her across to straddle his lap. He hummed in satisfaction as his head fell back, allowing her to deepen the kiss as his hands explored further below her waistband. 

This, Lucy could do so much easier than making a decision that risked so much. She knew her husband, knew where to put her hands, her lips, her legs, she knew how he’d respond and what she could get in return. As his hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, she felt the tension loosen in her chest. 

The discussion could wait. 

Sex wouldn’t. 

It wasn’t often they had the house to themselves any more, not with five boys coming and going at all hours. Through necessity and practice they had gotten good at being quiet, at swallowing one anothers little squeaks and moans, but it was never quite the same. 

“Tell me,” Jeff murmured, his nose trailing along her jaw as his hands kneaded her ass, “was that what kept you away last night? When we could have been doing this?”

Her own head fell back as his teeth nipped at the skin of her neck, his question taking a long moment to process whilst her hands found his shoulders. It was meant as a tease, something for him to use against her as part of their fun, but as the meaning of his words processed, they left Lucy feeling cold. 

Their phone call the previous night had been headed in exactly the same direction, right up until headlights on the driveway had warned Jeff of their son’s return and Lucy had taken the opportunity to say good night and instead sit with her thoughts alone. Guilt had eaten at her until she had fallen asleep for not asking her husband for his thoughts on the matter, for holding it in and trying to make a decision that would impact their whole family, alone.

“I--” She sighed, closing her eyes as she tilted his head back to his, “I needed to think it through.”

His hands stopped their kneading, pulling out of her leggings to run up under her t-shirt in long gentle strokes. Tilting his head back, he met her eyes, clearly anticipating her to say something more. 

“Honey?”

“I knew what you’d say,” She whispered, cupping his cheek as she leant in, sharing the same air as him as she spoke, “that you wouldn’t want me to go because you’re so goddamn protective of me.”

Her lips brushed his, the lightest of kisses.

“And I love that about you, I love you for wanting to keep our family as safe and healthy and happy, especially since…”

Since the avalanche , went unspoken. 

“It’s your decision.” He murmured, his hand reaching up to tuck her hair back, “Honey, it’s always your decision.”

She nodded, her words barely a breath against his lips, “I know. I just needed to make it without our family’s influence.”

His frown was felt, the wrinkle of skin shifting against her own as he sighed heavily, his hand cupping her cheek just as hers was still cupping his. 

“Everything I do, I do it for you.”

There was no time wasted in her next kiss, not when he had invoked their wedding song, and one of the reasons at the very core of why she loved him so much. Of course he understood, of course he would support her in whatever she felt she needed to do, of course he had known from the moment she had started to explain that her decision had always been made. Reasons and further explanations could wait. 

Her love for him, her need, and want for him, came first.

His hands returned to her top, venturing under the material and caressing across the ticklish skin of her stomach before sneaking upwards towards her bra. 

“Honey?” He murmured as her lips trailed down his neck towards the collar of his shirt. 

She paused, hands already at the first button, as she raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Upstairs?” He suggested, glancing towards the front door. 

Her movements were slow as she straightened back up to tower over him, taking advantage of the recline of the sofa cushions to look down on him with her own, wicked, smile. The t-shirt was the first thing to go, flung easily towards the front door in a warning they both knew Sally would heed if she and the boys returned home too soon. Her bra quickly followed.

“Fuck,” Jeff moaned, his hands pulling her hips into his, “Honey.”

Her hands caught his face, tilting it back as she looked down on him, “Everything,” She whispered, “for you.”

***

They did eventually make it upstairs to their room, though it had been a mad dash when they had heard the horn of Sally’s car - a warning agreed upon years before. 

A text had come through, when Jeff had finally checked his phone, promising the boys would be out of their hair until dinner time and were none the wiser as to what their parents had been up to. They both still cringed at the winking emoji Sally deployed, even though they were both aware of how they’d teased Virgil in the same way over recent months. 

They had dozed for a while, enjoying the summer breeze that fluttered through the light curtains framing the window. Between the boys, work, and guest lectures, it had been a while since they had simply been able to lie. Both had expected to wait another few weeks until their anniversary weekend away, but neither would complain about the extra time gained. 

“Hey,” Jeff murmured as she shifted against him, trailing her fingers along the planes of his chest.

She hummed in response, smiling softly as his fingers scratched lightly against her scalp. 

“What made you want to accept?” He asked, his voice as gentle as the breeze. 

Fingers found his and entwined them together as she took a slow, steading breath. In the haze of the day, it was obvious to her that he would support any decision she made. 

It was her reasoning that had made her doubt everything, pushed by her own protectiveness of her brood. 

“General Rodgers forewarned me that Scott’s squadron is likely to be deployed by the end of summer. Our baby is going to war , Jeff.”

His arm around her shoulders tightened at her words as he sucked in his own breath. 

They had always known it was a possibility, had seen it coming right as Scott had enlisted and the troubles in Bereznik had worsened. Neither of them had been thrilled at the idea, not when they’d done the same SERE training themselves, not when they knew the dangers. 

It had eased both of their worry that Scott had climbed the ranks quickly, old friends promoted to Majors and Colonels calling up to boast how the young pilot kept surpassing his father’s records. He had jet fuel in his blood and the horizon in his eyes, he was smart and quick, cool under pressure and confident in himself, everything Lucy had seen in the very best pilots she had watched all those years they had spent on base. 

It wasn’t that she needed to follow him out there, she knew he was more than capable of looking after himself wherever he ended up. She was under no illusion that there would be no motherly hugs or fuss tolerated out there, just as it had been when she had worked on base with Jeff.

Europe was so far away though. It had been hard enough when Scott and John had both flown the nest at the same time, only one of them able to head home to visit regularly. She missed having her whole brood in arms reach, even if she knew she had to let them go to live their own lives. 

She knew the Generals had used that to their advantage. 

“You can’t protect him out there.” Jeff warned, rolling to face her, “Have you thought about it? About what you’d do out there if he got hurt?”

She turned her head to meet him, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “The same thing you probably would.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, “You’re not trained to fly fighters.”

“And you think that would stop me?”

“No.” He leant across to kiss her, “But it does make me want to do all sorts of things to you.”

She laughed as he rolled over her, straddling her waist in a reverse of their earlier position. His head tilted as she ran her hands over his arms, her mind taken up by times when she had been forced to stand by, unable to do anything. 

“Tell me?” He asked gently, catching her chin with his fingers, “What is it?”

It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but she knew, not even Jeff was psychic. 

“When you almost crash-landed on Mars, all I could do was stand and watch, a million miles away. Then we didn’t hear from you for weeks during that storm…” She sighed, searching his face for understanding, “I don’t know if I could live on the opposite side of the world, knowing he’s there, and knowing I could have been closer.”

Knowing she could have seen him each morning for herself, alive and well. 

“I know none of that was easy for you, especially when I was on Alfie whilst you were pregnant with Virgil and when I wasn’t here for Gordon.”Jeff told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead and then each of her eyelids, “You’re so strong, you’ve been so strong for this family all the times I wasn’t here.”

Her hands reached behind his neck, playing with the short strands of hair at the base of his skull. 

“Is that really a reason for me to go though?” she whispered, watching him, “Am I being selfish to the rest of our family if I go?”

“No.” He replied instantly, “You saw how upset they all were when he left, our family isn’t whole without all of our boys, and you, and me. That’s why we told him about the Project, to give him the option to do what he loves with us.” 

He leant down to kiss her again, touching the end of her nose and then her lips, “If you going out there means I get to wake up every morning knowing our son is safe in a war zone, then you’re doing our whole family a service.”

“I’d call you,” She swallowed, “if anything happened, I’d call you before anything else.”

His smile was soft as he pulled her to sit up, shifting so she was sitting in his lap, “That, honey, is a given.”

It was easy to smile as his lips found her collar, his words a soothing balm her anxious mind hadn’t known she had needed to hear. 

“Now,” He mumbled against her skin, “tell me more about this plan to steal a fighter jet.”

Her fingers trailed slowly down his spine as she sucked in a breath, “Why?”

Teeth nipped against her neck, his hands tightening their hold on her thighs as he pulled her closer, his intent perfectly obvious. 

“So I can do all sorts of bad things to you, and make up for when you’re not here.”

And that was as good a reason as she’d ever heard.

Chapter Text

“Momma!” Scott laughed as he pulled the front door open, “It’s f’undering!”

Lucy laughed as she followed him, catching him by the collar before he could escape out into the rain, “Steady on here hot-shot, no going out in the rain without your coat!” 

He looked past her for a moment before racing back to the closet, a clatter indicating he’d pulled something else out alongside his coat, but it was a problem for later when Jeff was home and both Scott and John were tucked up in bed. 

The eighteen-month old against her chest was watching the outside with the same caution that he approached everything. His big brother’s antics were nothing new to him, but the thunder outside was an unknown that needed careful observation. 

“Will Daddy be able to land?” Scott asked as he pulled on his coat, “Even when it’s f’undering?”

“He sure will.” She assured, tucking John’s coat around him the best she could when he wasn’t cooperating, “You heard him, nothing’s too much of a challenge for Thunder.”

Scott’s frown was deep as he stepped out onto the covered porch, “I still don’ get why he’s not Thunderbird.”

Lucy followed him with her own smile, “Because that’s not how callsigns work sweetie.”

“Why?”

“He’ll tell you when you’re older.” She stepped out into the rain, kicking up a puddle as she did, “Get out here or you’ll miss him!”

Scott chased after her, laughing as he kicked up his own puddles. Everyone else would be tucked up inside or already on base waiting for their family members, Jeff had sourced a lift home with Lee, saving Lucy the hassle of wrangling their two boys into the car and onto the base. 

Not that the majority of people waiting would have minded, Scott had already made a name for himself amongst the community. 

It had been a happy coincidence that their street lined up perfectly with the runway, something Scott had been thrilled about despite his reservations about their move. He’d been caught plenty of times racing to the nearest window any time the rumble of a jet sounded overhead, as awed by the planes as Jeff and Lucy had always expected him to be. 

It was a willing compromise that he got to watch Jeff’s plane come into land, even if they weren’t on base to see him as soon as he was released from duty.

“Look!” Scott pointed as lightning lit up the sky, “There he is!”

Lucy smiled, squinting against the rain as she looked up, spotting the flashing green and red lights of the three jets in formation. The roar of their engines drowned out the distant thunder, making Scot squeal as he jumped in delight.

She reached out to the eldest as she cradled John’s head, “That’s him alright.”

“One day I’ll be up there too,” Scott beamed, raindrops racing down his face where his hood had fallen down, “I’ll be jus’ as good as Daddy.”

She didn’t doubt it for a moment. 

Wiping the rain from his hair, she watched him, “You can do whatever you want Scotty, don’t you ever forget that.”

~

Scott strode through the hallways of the base, long since familiar with the lay-out. He couldn’t think of any mis-adventures that would have him called to the General’s office, nothing that his superiors hadn’t already pulled him up on. Sure, there had been the stunt he had pulled on their last test flight, but that wasn’t anything he hadn’t already been taught to do. 

Just because Dad had taught him, rather than his instructor, didn’t mean he couldn’t use the same tricks. 

Everyone on base knew his name, knew his callsign came right from the great and daring Thunder - a callsign with a far more embarrassing backstory than Scott had realised. He had been determined to make a name for himself, to shine in his own light despite being known as Apollo, son of Thunder. 

It had been his own stubbornness and determination that had stunned everyone into silence on the matter, each of the ranks quickly realising that Scott Tracy refused to get by on the coattails of his father’s legacy. He had climbed the ranks quicker, beaten his father’s old records, kept himself out of the sort of trouble he knew his father had gotten into. He was his own man, just as his family had always told him to be. 

“Captain Tracy.” 

He straightened automatically as the General waved him through to the office, “General Rodgers.”

“Take a seat, Captain.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

He took the seat but didn’t relax.

“Captain, you are aware of the deteriorating situation in Bereznik, yes?”

Scott frowned, it had been gossip throughout the base, the civil war had drawn in the surrounding countries early on, demanding a need for attention from all the world powers. Anyone knowing anything about the military had been keeping a close eye on proceedings, fully aware of the potential need for further engagement if the right people asked for the help. 

The French had called out to the USAF months ago, requesting air support to back-up their troops on the ground supporting those trying to take the corrupt government of the small country. Naturally, they had sent young airmen expecting a quick and easy resolution that would give them real world experience. 

Rumour had it that nobody had anticipated the strength of Bereznik’s anti-aircraft weapons. 

“There’s plenty of gossip to filter through, Sir,” He nodded, “how much is true?”

Rodgers leant back in his chair, casting his eye over Scott as he nodded slowly, “Too much.”

Meaning things were worse than they wanted people to know, worse than they could safely let on to the same men they planned to send out there. 

“We’re getting fewer planes back than we’re sending out, Captain.” Rodgers sat up suddenly, “And the ones that are coming back are damaged and in need of urgent repairs. We made the mistake of sending out young airmen, thinking it would be a simple two month strategy that would cost the force pocket change. Those airmen were not up to the task, and the government doesn’t want to spend more than it needs to.”

What Scott heard was that the rumours were true. 

“So, we’re sending our best.” Rodgers pointed at him, “That includes you, and your squadron.” 

Missions weren’t handed out in offices on a one-to-one basis, they were called out in bunk rooms on bases after they’d been deployed. 

“Thank you, Sir.” It was, after all, a complement. 

“As I said, Captain, our planes are damaged. We’re also sending out a crew of Combat Engineers to carry out repairs on base, their aim is to keep each of those jets in the sky as long as possible.”

Scott frowned, unclear on his point. 

“Sir?” 

Rodgers pressed the comm on his desk, “Send her in.” 

It was automatic for Scott to stand as the door opened, waiting to be acknowledged by whoever had been invited in. 

“At ease, Captain, there’s no formalities needed here.” 

Scott glanced from the general to the woman in the doorway as he let his shoulders drop, only to tense again as realisation hit. 

“ Mom .” 

Her smile was tight as she nodded to him, “Good to see you, Captain.” 

It all fell into place in that moment as she looked over him, her jaw tense with a smile that was forced. 

“You’re retired.” He stated, “How are you--”

“By special request from an old friend.” Rodgers answered for her, “Tracy, your mother is one of the best engineers the force has ever seen, and one of the few still up to date on her combat training.”

He gaped, trying to think of an argument, any valid reason to keep her out of a war zone. 

“General,” Mom looked to Rodgers, nodding just slightly, “may we have the room?”

Rodgers eyed Scott before looking back to his mother, nodding as he slowly rose from his desk, “Five minutes.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Mom answered, shifting to attention and saluting as he passed. 

Scott could only gape, she had no right, no power against that of a General . Yet, she had asked and he had given. It was wrong, it was special treatment, against every protocol that had been drilled into him for years. 

“The hell!” He snapped as soon as the door was shut, “No. No, you are not being deployed, not into a war zone . I do not need baby-sitting out there.”

Mom moved around the room, folding her arms as she leant against the cabinet on the wall opposite the door. Her jaw was still tight, but the smile was gone, she was suddenly the woman Scott had seen challenge business men and women alike. 

“I am not coming to baby-sit you.” She murmured, watching him like he was something about to explode, “I am coming to fix planes and do my part to help those in Bereznik that need it.” 

“Don’t lie ,” He spat, knowing it wasn’t true, knowing there would be ulterior motives from all angles, “they told you, didn’t they? They said I was going to get you to come out of retirement.”

“They didn’t need to tell me.” She sighed, shaking her head, “Scott, I understand what it feels like--”

“ No ,” he shouted over her, “you don’t.”

She straightened, amber eyes hardening in his direction as her arms fell to her sides. It was anger as raw as he’d seen on her, usually reserved for playground bullies or parents not doing their job. There was the odd occasion it had been turned on Scott himself or his brothers, when they had done something severe. After such instances, they had always run to their rooms with their tails between their legs. 

Scott was a Captain, an engineer’s anger was of no threat to him. 

Though, he wasn’t sure where he stood when said engineer was his mother. 

“They haven’t told me why .” She stated, voice cold as she stared him down, “I don’t know what their motive is yet, but be assured, Captain , that I am not here to preside over the career I know you have fought to build for yourself here.” 

She stepped away from the cabinet, drawing herself to her full height that hadn’t matched Scott’s for years, as she faced him. 

“As a colleague, I don’t blame you for your feelings. As your mother, I’m disappointed you don’t trust me.”

He grit his teeth, biting back the retort of his own disappointment in her as the door reopened and Rodgers stepped back in. 

Mom turned, standing to attention as Scott did, until he waved for them both to sit. 

“Captain, is this going to cause an issue?”

Scott looked to his mother, swallowing his anger, knowing he didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to go with the rest of his squadron. 

“No, Sir.”

“Good,” He shuffled the papers on his desk as Mom sunk back in her seat, “now, I wish to go over the details of the arrangement.”

***

“Eos, hook me up with John.” 

He’d marched over to the far side of the base as soon as he’d been dismissed, heading straight for the hangar with his jet. It was perhaps the most private place he could get without leaving the base, even if he couldn’t fly, the cockpit was a sanctuary away from the general organised chaos of the area. 

“John is busy writing an essay and wishes to not be disturbed.”

“It’s summer, the essay’s only for extra credit. Tell him it’s Cat Five,” Scott huffed as he sunk down in the pilot's seat, “it’s about Mom.”

His brother’s hologram instantly appeared with him in the cockpit, “She told you then.”

“You knew?”

“She flew over and told me at the weekend, she didn’t want to wait until I came home next week.”

Scott sighed, “She’s babysitting me.”

John frowned across the hologram, “And to prove your maturity, you’re sitting in a cockpit sulking about it.”

Scott’s glare was automatic, but John didn’t flinch halfway across the world, instead turning back to his essay and flicking through a book.

“John, it’s literally what they’re employing her to do. She’s maintained her Sergeant rank and everything.”

That did get his brother’s attention, the book snapping shut as he sat straighter, “What?”

Scott sighed, glancing around the hangar before he explained, “They’re only sending a handful of us out, there’s less of us than there are planes. Some of us are going to fly solo with the old Artemis Program Mom worked on back in the day.”

John snorted, shaking his head slightly, “Apollo flying with Artemis, ironic.”

Scott waved off the comment, more bothered by the implication of what his superiors thought of him than a lesson in Ancient Grecian Gods. It hadn’t been hard to put together when Rodgers had told Scott that he would be the only solo pilot in his squad, that Mom would be the one to install the program and tech needed for it to run. 

He knew he had pulled stunts before on dummy missions, knew in training he had always been the one to go back for a man left behind. They had always praised him for his camaraderie, told him that it would probably get him killed one day, but Scott knew he would never put his copilot at that much risk. It had always been a decision made together. 

Flying solo meant nobody else was at risk from his stunts, there would be nobody to reign him in from the sky. 

His Generals didn’t trust him to obey their orders in an actual war zone. 

So they’d brought Mom to do the job for them.

Perhaps not so directly, she would likely be busy with other jobs as an engineer whilst he was out flying. 

It was painfully obvious though, that Mom being on base gave him a reason to make sure he got back home safely. 

“They don’t trust me.”

John raised an eyebrow, “Who? Our parents or your Generals?”

He sighed, not certain of his answer.

“Scott, have either of our parents ever stopped us from doing what we wanted?” He held up a finger as Scott opened his mouth, “And I don’t mean like climbing the tree next to the barn.”

It was easy to grin at the memory, when he had ignored his parents warnings because he had been sure he had known better. 

“They always said we could do whatever we wanted.”

“It had to be legal, I think was the only stipulation.”

The specificity startled a laugh from Scott as he wiped over the buttons of his jet with his fingers, “They didn’t even say safe.”

“Whilst Dad didn’t have the most dangerous career in the world, most would probably say his jobs were pretty high up there.”

Scott nodded in agreement as he traced around a dial, “He set a stellar example for us.”

John hummed, “And never once have they stopped us from following that example.”

“You still gonna tell me Mom’s not here to babysit me?”

His brother’s look was flat across the hologram, only a blink telling Scott that the signal hadn’t actually frozen him in place. 

“I’m going to tell you, she’s not going to stop you from doing the one thing you always wanted to do, but she’s going to go with you whilst you do, and give us all peace of mind that you’re safe .”

Scott’s hand fell away from the dash as he collapsed back in his seat. 

He had never considered anyone else beyond him and Mom, hadn’t thought of how the news of his trip would be received by the rest of his family. Selfishly, he had assumed they would all be proud, he had never considered what they would think about his safety out there. 

On base in a war zone there would be no unplanned calls home, no random texts to brothers to find out how their day had been. He would be truly cut off from his family for longer than he ever had been before. 

“Whilst you’re thinking over that lightbulb moment,” John sighed, “I need to go back to this essay.”

“John,” He called him, hoping he wouldn’t hang up immediately, “thank you.”

The ginger’s smile was thin but genuine as he shook his head, “See you next week, Apollo, fly safe.”

“Copy that, Starman.” He grinned in return before the line was cut. 

“Eos,” he shifted upright, “where’s Mom?”

“She just entered the hangar you are currently occupying.”

Half standing, he spotted her approaching his jet, too confident to not know that he was there. 

“Who snitched?”

“John.” She told him as she climbed the steps alongside the plane, “Don’t blame him though, you know how he hates infighting.”

“Seeing as he just schooled me, I’ll give him a pass.” He huffed, sinking back in his seat and drawing his knees up as Mom perched on the edge of the cockpit, just as she was in the photo on the mantle at home.

Mom had been at home in the Air Force longer than he had been alive. It was easy to forget that she had worked alongside Dad and his Aunt and Uncle on bases across the country, making her own name, and finding her own connections. She knew how the place worked as well as he did, knew the rules and regulations, knew how to act and when to hold her tongue. 

She was not the foreign presence that Scott had anticipated. 

He picked at a thread on his trousers as he glanced up to her, “I’m sorry.”

She smiled down to him, “I forgive you, and I do understand. I swear, I didn’t know about the Artemis project though.” 

Scott smiled to himself as he looked back to the dash, “You going to add Eos into the mix?”

“Only if you let me.” She answered, smiling in return when he finally looked up to her. 

The playing field had been leveled, a happy medium between mother and colleague found that he felt confident they could both work with.

He reached out, catching her hand on the edge of the plane, “So, when did you train as a Combat Engineer?”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “Right before I got pregnant with you, I never got to deploy,” Her hand reached out to his hair, hesitating for a moment before pulling away, “I never wanted to then.” 

That much Scott could understand, one parent out in the field was enough without the second risking themselves as well. He had known his younger brothers hadn’t been the happiest about his choice of career taking him away from them for long periods of time. They had all experienced it with Dad, first with the moon and then Mars. Scott and Mom though, both of them had always been there, only ever a phone call away. 

“Are the others okay with it?”

Her face fell slightly as she covered his hand with her own, “Alan’s upset that we’ll both be gone, but the others understand.”

Scott winced thinking of his youngest brother, knowing how he idolised their whole family and what they did. 

“He’ll be fine once he realises it means he gets your Dad’s attention more,” Mom shrugged, “and when he hears all the stories you’ll have to tell.”

Leaning over towards her, he laughed, hoping there would be plenty of stories both suitable and unsuitable for younger brothers. There were already more than enough things he would have to watch with his Mom around, stories that absolutely could not make it around to her. 

“I’ve got a couple of hours before my ride home,” She told him with a gentle nudge, “is it too embarrassing to get lunch with your old Mom before she goes?”

Pushing himself up and out of his seat, he grinned to her, “I’d love to, Sergeant Taylor .”

Chapter Text

Jeff wrapped his arms around her as she pulled the t-shirt from the pile of laundry waiting to be put away, his chin resting on her shoulder as he pecked her cheek, “He’s in Virgil’s room.”

Lucy frowned as she refolded the t-shirt their eldest had asked for before he had vanished off to avoid the job of packing for Summer Camp. Scott had done nothing but talk about the trip for months, excited to be headed on an adventure all of his own. She hadn’t been sure at first, Seven still felt too young for her baby to be away from his family for so long, but the other Moms at school had convinced her that he was plenty mature enough to cope. 

The day before he was due to leave, and both she and Jeff had picked up on Scott’s sudden lack of enthusiasm. 

“Playing?”

Jeff nodded, “Reading to him.”

Her heart lurched, “They’re going to miss each other so much.”

“It’ll do them good.” 

She knew her husband was right, Scott had always loved John but their middle born was quiet and reserved where the first was loud and bold. From the moment Virgil had come home though it had been abundantly clear that he and Scott would inevitably become the closest kind of brothers. 

“Let’s talk to them.” She sighed, turning in Jeff’s hold, “John too.”

Together they headed down the hallway, hovering in the doorway of the nursery to watch for a few moments as Scott read to his youngest brother sat in his lap on the toddler’s bed. John was there too, curled up on the rocking chair with his own book, his blanket tucked under his arm as he traced each line of words with his finger. 

“Hey Scotty,” She interrupted when the story came to a natural pause, “I found your NASA t-shirt.”

His face lit up for the briefest of moments before falling again, his attention going back to Virgil and their book. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Scott shrugged, “I don’t wanna go.”

“Oh now,” Jeff stepped into the room, picking the pair up so he could sit in their place on the bed, each balanced on a knee, “that’s not what you’ve said for the last three months, right Virgil?”

“Scotty’s goin’ on a ad-en-ture!” Virgil exclaimed with a grin, turning to watch as Lucy crossed the room to John. 

She didn’t pick up the red haired boy as their father had done, instead running her hand through his hair as he mouthed out one of the longer words in his book. 

“I can’t go!” Scott exclaimed, looking from one parent to the other, “You said I didn’t have to!”

John looked up at his big brother's shout, his book forgotten as he reached out for his mother, blanket still clasped tightly in his hand. Lucy scooped him up, balancing him on her hip as she joined the rest of their family on the bed. 

“Don’t yell.” John mumbled, clinging to Lucy’s top.

“Scott, you’ve been so excited for this for months,” She started, soothing a hand over John’s back, “it’s going to be your adventure, like when your Dad was on the Moon the other year.”

Scott’s eyes filled with tears, his voice wobbly as he nodded, “ Exactly .”

Jeff frowned across to Lucy, not understanding the child’s sudden upset. Lucy shook her head minutely, equally as dumbfounded. 

Naturally, Scott saw their wordless conversation, “What if John or Virgil need me? What if you need me?”

She sighed, reaching across to run a hand through the eldest’s dark hair, “Oh Scotty, that’s not--”

“Dad said!” Scott insisted, looking up to his father, “You said I had to look after Mom and John whilst you were gone! Who’s gonna look after them when you go away next week?”

Jeff’s medical for the Mars mission being brought forward hadn’t been part of the family’s summer plans, but with Scott away at camp, neither of them had thought of it as much of an inconvenience. The father would be home before Scott, leaving them all with the rest of the holidays to have their own family adventure. 

Scott had asked about it the night before, having seen Jeff’s own bag out ready to be packed. 

“Mom got really sad when you were gone.” Scott’s voice softened as tears tracked down his cheeks, “I don’ want her to be sad again.”

“Oh baby.” Lucy reached out to him, letting John wriggle out of her arms as Scott clambered over to hug her tightly, “I promise, I’m okay now. Sometimes when moms get pregnant it makes their brain work funny.”

Scott sniffed as he frowned at her, “You’re not pregnant now though, right?”

She ignored Jeff’s cough as she shook her head, “Nope, and even if I was, it’s not your responsibility to look after me or your brothers, okay?”

Jeff ruffled the kid’s hair, “I’m sorry, Scotty, I should have explained. You don’t have to do all the things I do to look after your Mom and brothers,” He nudged his cheek gently, “what I meant was that I needed you to do your chores, to be patient when she’s busy with the others, call Granny Taylor if there was any trouble.”

Lucy rolled her eyes at Jeff’s explanation, smiling slightly as John shuffled back to her side. She wiped Scott’s cheeks with her thumbs, kissing his nose just to hear his giggle as he sniffled. 

“What your Dad means, Scotty, is you’re a big brother twice now and sometimes we need you to help -- like with putting toys away, or getting your shoes on the first time we ask, or showing them how to play nicely.” His nod showed her he understood, “But you’re still a kid too, and it’s our job as your parents to look after you, not the other way around, okay?”

Scott looked from one younger brother to the other, “But I want to look after them.” 

“And you can,” Jeff assured, “but as their big brother, you can look after them, and still go on your own adventures.”

Lucy nodded, “When we go to the lake house, you can show them all the cool stuff you learned at camp.”

“Like when you showed me to skip the pebwls.” John mumbled, his head resting on Lucy’s arm.

Scott’s face lit up, “I can do both ?”

Both parents laughed gently, each squeezing the oldest tightly.

“Absolutely,” Jeff looked between each of them, “we look after our family, but we still lead our own lives.”

Scott looked to his mother, wide blue eyes still shining from his previous tears, “And you won’t be sad, Mom?”

She brushed his cheek, “I might get sad, but if I do, I still want you to have your adventure. I promise, I’ll look after myself whilst you’re gone, and if I really , really , need you to make me better, I’ll call you.” 

He launched himself at her in a hug that was all arms and legs, Virgil and John both quick to join in as Scott giggled happily. 

“Now,” Jeff announced with a clap, “let’s get you packed.”

~

“No!” Lucy exclaimed as Scott took her pieces, “Hang on, that’s not-- surely that’s not in the rules?”

Jeff was laughing as he set his drink down, “‘Fraid it is, honey.”

She threw up her hands as the rest of the boys laughed, cursing under her breath as Virgil took the pair of dice for his turn. 

“It’s a plot.” She insisted, “You’re all plotting against me!”

John’s grin was sly as he fiddled with his cards, “Literally the point of the game, Mom.” 

Alan giggled, leaning over his brother’s shoulder to look at John’s cards in a blatant show of team-work as he pointed to one in particular and then one of his own pieces on the board. 

None of them look up at the sound of the doorbell, all far more interested in Virgil’s turn. Shaking her head, she tapped Jeff’s shoulder as she stood, “Anyone touches my pieces whilst I’m gone and there will be bloodshed.”

Gordon didn’t waste any time in sliding over to his father as she left, no doubt ready to bargain to move himself up a spot whilst she wasn’t looking. 

She was still shaking her head as she pulled the front door open, uttering to herself about the competitiveness that ran in the family.

“Val!” 

They hadn’t been expecting any visitors, least of all one of her oldest friends. The woman had stayed in the Air Force even when she and Jeff had jumped ship, continuing up the ranks in a quiet but certain manner. Their weekly calls had remained a constant on Sunday nights after the kids had gone to bed, and the god-mother who took credit for introducing Jeff and Lucy had never once missed a birthday or anniversary. 

So it should have been no surprise that she had turned up on Lucy and Scott’s last night at home. 

“That’s Major Casey to you.” She grinned, going in for a hug, “How’re you doing, Luce?”

Lucy returned the hug, sighing as she shook her head. Various feelings had made themselves known throughout the week where her whole family had been back in the farmhouse, but that was a conversation for later. 

“I’m outnumbered, outgunned, and outranked.” She huffed, glancing back towards the den as a cheer went up, “It’s board game night.”

Val slung a comfortable arm across her shoulders, “Well, it’s a good job you’ve got reinforcements, let’s show them how it’s done.”

***

After the younger pair were sent off to bed, Virgil slunk off to call his boyfriend. Scott and John had been quick to serve drinks for the rest of them, clearly hoping not to be chased out of the lounge as intruders on a grown-up conversation. 

“All I’m saying is,” Jeff was waving his drink about, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the top of the glass, “who regulates a global military?” 

Val sat back, “You say that like there’s any real regulation now.”

“The Air Force is changing,” Scott nodded sagely, looking to his father as he poured out a drink for John, “you always said the Generals answer to nobody but each other and people today don’t respect that like they used to. Maybe something globally regulated is what we need.”

Lucy shook her head as she sipped her own drink, wincing at the burn of the scotch, “Enough politics. This is what I’m going to have to deal with for the next four months as it is.” 

It had been part of her agreement, knowing that Scott wouldn’t be allowed the same leniency, she had insisted she be home for Christmas. The family had spent enough holidays apart, her own favourite time of year to spoil each of them as much as she could was one she refused to miss if she could bargain it from the Generals. 

“Is that really all you guys talk about out there?” John murmured from his seat propped up on the floor against the corner or Jeff’s armchair, reaching up for the drink Scott held out to him with a slight nod of thanks.

Scott glanced over to her as he sunk down next to his brother, “When Mom’s around, yes .” 

Jeff laughed, “Oh son, she’s heard it all before you know?”

Lucy smiled as Scott’s ears coloured pink at the comment, the eldest muttering something about dying of embarrassment. 

Val nodded in agreement, “Honestly, Scott, your Mom was the one that started most of those inappropriate conversations.”

John groaned, throwing his head back as Scott plugged his ears, pretending not to listen. 

“It’s alright,” Lucy placated, reaching out to Scott’s shoulder, “we have an understanding, right Kiddo?”

Scott smiled up to her, nudging her knee with his shoulder, “Right.”

Val raised an eyebrow as she sipped her drink, silently asking the question. 

“Captain Tracy has made a name for himself out there.” Lucy explained, knowing she couldn’t help her own smile as she glanced down to Scott.

“He sure has,” Val raised her glass towards the kid, “youngest Captain this Century. From everything I’ve heard, you earned it Scotty.”

He beamed in response, sitting just a fraction taller, “Thanks Aunt Val.”

“As I did with you guys on base,” Lucy continued, “we respect the chain of command.”

Their lunch on base the previous week had suggested it would be easier than she had anticipated. She already knew many of Scott’s peers from various presentations and functions over the years. Many of his seniors had once been colleagues of Jeff and Val’s, people that she had classed as close acquaintances after working in close quarters with them all for so long. It had been the rest of his squad she had been most worried over meeting, his subordinates needed to trust and respect him, any of their questions had needed careful answering so as to not drop him in trouble. 

As charismatic as his father, Scott had led the conversation comfortably, laughing and joking as easily as they did at home as he fielded any awkward questions aimed at Lucy. He’d shown her where he wanted the bar set, and she had been happy to follow his lead. 

“They’re going to do great.” Jeff smiled across to them both, before looking down to John, “It won’t be long before she’s following you off into Space.”

Val laughed loudly, “I seem to recall her swearing off of space when you took her on the vomit-comet that one time.” 

Lucy raised her own glass, “John, honey, I love you but I am never going to follow you into space.”

Scott looked from his brother to his father, “It’s not that bad, is it?”

She could only shudder at the memory, at how excited she had been to experience the zero-g with Jeff. The flight had never been anticipated as an issue, she loved flying, had laughed when Jeff had taken her out to show off his stunts. The dips and flips had never bothered her, not even when he had sent them plummeting towards earth and pulled up at what had felt like the last moment. 

Even with all of the motion-sickness advice the experienced team could provide, Lucy had found no relief with each of the dips in gravity on the flight. 

“When you’re next on leave I’ll take you.” Jeff winked, “Maybe for Alan’s next birthday we could all go.” 

“I’ll take Lucy’s spot.” Val grinned, reaching across to pat her leg, “You can go to the spa or something.”

“Deal.” She agreed, knowing she would need it after the beds she expected out on the foreign base. 

A glance down to Scott reminded her it would be worth it though, worth leaving the rest of her family no matter how much Alan would cry tomorrow. She knew it would be hard at times, that some days would undoubtedly scare her, but at least she and her family would know that their boy was safe. 

Chapter Text

John had been holed away in his room most of the week, hiding away from the ruckus of the rest of the family whilst he recovered from the flu. Lucy had been waiting for it to pass through the house, but it seemed that the rest of her brood had remained immune with their pleas for a day out coming as loud and demanding as usual. 

Jeff had swept in, barely home from a business meeting before he had left again with four of the five in tow. He’d promised the aquarium, much to Gordon’s delight, and then a lunch of Alan’s choice as an early birthday treat. The older two had gone along at her insistence, Scott having offered to help around the house and Virgil mimicking his oldest brother in a way they’d all long since gotten used to. 

“Hey spaceman,” She murmured as she cracked the door open, “can I come in?”

“Yeah,” He snuffled, huffing as he adjusted himself beneath the pile of blankets.

“I brought you chicken soup,” She smiled, setting the tray down over his legs as John finished whatever he was typing on the data-pad, “What are you working on?”

He tilted the screen towards her, the lines of code the same as the project he’d been working on most of the week when he’d felt up to it. She had banned him from school work, insisting he was already ahead enough in his syllabus that he could afford to take a week off from the work. Of course, it had only taken him a moment to find something different to work on, but she was grateful that it was at least something fun. 

“It’s still not right,” He told her, “it wants to play but it doesn’t want to win .”

Perching on the edge of the bed, she scanned over the coding, “Well, my programming skills are a little rusty, but I can take a look whilst you eat and we can work through it together?”

John’s grin was wide, “Really?”

A cough quickly followed, deep and hacking as he doubled forward. 

“Easy there.” She soothed, “Do you want some water?”

He sat back, taking a drink and handing over the datapad for her to look at. 

“It’s not far off of being a full AI,” He admitted, “but I didn’t think I should go any further down that line, what with all the regulations coming in.”

She shrugged as she examined the line in question, “What harm could a game AI produced by my genius son cause?”

John grinned, “It could spy on everyone!”

Lucy laughed, playing along, “She could tell us exactly what your Dad and brothers are up to right now!”

John pulled a face, “ She ?”

“Sorry,” Lucy immediately pulled back, “the file was called Eos, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

John shook his head, wincing as he did, “I adapted it from a copy of the software that turns the lights on and off, like Eos, the bringer of the dawn.”

The breadth of his knowledge would never cease to amaze Lucy. 

Running a hand through his hair, she frowned at just how warm he was. 

“I think I’m going to call the doctors.” She told him, “You’re still burning up, Kiddo.”

John sighed, “I just want to be better, Mom.”

Leaning down, she kissed his forehead, “Be patient, love, you will be soon.”

A week and a half in hospital with drips and antivirals had eventually seen John right, the nurses taking no chances in him passing the bug on to any other patient as they set him up in a private room. Lucy had stayed to keep him company, but both were aware that not even a hospital was of any comparison to the noise their family made. Whilst he had slept, she had worked on his template, drawing on all her old knowledge that she hadn’t thought of since leaving the Air Force. 

“Can you keep a secret?” She had asked after morning rounds when John had been complaining about missing his brothers. 

His raised eyebrow said it all, the most secretive of the five, she knew she could trust him.

Handing him his data-pad, she smiled as she leaned her elbows on the edge of his bed, “Eos, hello.”

A silver ring lit up in hologram above the pad, seven dots evenly spaced around the ring lit up as the female voice answered.

“Good Morning, Lucy, how can I help you?”

John’s face lit up, his eyes brighter than they had been all week as he looked from her to the Intelligence. 

“Eos.” He breathed, “She’s real!”

Lucy laughed softly, having done little more than think of the applications of the AI whilst John had been going through the hospital admission process. He had almost been right, sometimes a spy was needed to keep track of their family of seven. With Scott spending more time off with friends, and gearing up for his Senior year, Gordon taking his swim lessons with more seriousness than a seven year old had any right to, and Jeff spending more time away with the business it could be hard to keep track of who was where - even with all of the advances in technology. 

Eos was John’s first though, a primary directive to befriend and entertain, a game program that could match his wits and give enough challenge to the teenager who outshone all of his peers. 

“How about a game of chess?” She suggested, “But take it easy, John’s still recovering.”

It wasn’t until the summer that they had trained her well enough for the rest of the family to be let in on exactly what the AI could do. Each of the boys had taken to her differently; Jeff, wary of the technological implications, Scott, appreciating an opponent that wasn’t John, Virgil, asking her questions and always surprised by her answers, Gordon, eager to get her into trouble in one way or another, and Alan, wary of the new presence in the house. 

Before long she had become a staple in the family’s daily routine, almost like an extra sibling for the boys, and a much needed extra pair of hands for Lucy and Jeff. John never commented on how his mother had picked back up on her programming skills, and she had never thought too hard on why she had left the skills behind in the Air Force. 

Eos was different, she was theirs, and theirs alone. 

~

Lucy hadn’t seen Scott that morning, but he had been aware that her plan had been to work on his plane. The previous day had been spent doing patch jobs, fixing up the planes that had been damaged in the attacks General Rodgers had warned them both of. It perhaps wasn’t her prettiest of work, but she knew the repairs would see the jets back in the air ready for whatever mission came next. 

Scott’s plane was a newer one, the paint still fresh and clean, not marred by gunfire or other such attacks. He’d been out in it a handful of times since they had arrived on the French base two weeks earlier, a younger airman taking the co-pilot's seat temporarily until Lucy had a chance to fit the required technology for the Artemis project. She had rolled her eyes when she had first seen it, knowing it was likely a coincidence that Scott had been assigned a machine known in the force as a Lightning class jet.

“Eos,” She murmured softly, glancing around the hangar as she plugged her data-pad into the jet, “as we discussed, make yourself at home.”

A green flash of acknowledgement was all she got as the AI transferred herself into the system.

“Starting without me?” Scott called as he strode across the tarmac, the late summer sun bright against his sunglasses.

She smiled as she shook her head, “Just checking there’s no red flags in the system.”

Scott slung his arm across her shoulders as he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and whispered, “And leaving our little friend behind?” 

Eos flashed green again, confirming the upload was complete. 

“I assume you hadn’t been planning on replacing her with that blonde you were flirting with at dinner?” 

Scott’s grin was devilish as he stood straight, looking up to his plane as he shook his head, “I was just practicing my French.” 

“Just don’t get anyone pregnant.” She warned with her own smile, “You know the trouble that leads to.” 

Scott ignored her, waving at one of the other airmen jogging towards them, “Hey Baker! We got news from the recon teams yet?” 

The man shook his head as he stepped into the shade, glancing to Lucy before looking back to Scott. 

She knew the look, knew it meant they weren’t sure how much should be said in front of a lowly engineer. It was something she’d expected, and knew how to handle. Her focus was the jet in front of her, to get it ready for single pilot use. She’d promised the Major it would be finished by the afternoon, the plan being for Scott to take a test flight before sun-down with his team at his back. 

“They’re still out.” Baker answered after a moment, “You actually flying this thing solo?”

“Once it’s been modified.” Scott nodded, slapping the fuselage.

Baker’s sign was audible, “And you trust it? This software they’re putting in?”

Lucy didn’t react, focussing on pulling out the second seat ready to replace with the unit that would take over the role of the co-pilot. Not even when she caught Scott’s glance in her direction did she say anything as she deactivated the ejector mechanism. 

“I trust the engineers installing it.” 

She could tell from the scuff of boots that Baker wasn’t convinced.

“Can a machine ever replace a co-pilot?”

It was hard to hold in a scoff as she started on the bolts to remove the frame that held the seat, the kid had misunderstood the whole point of the software. 

“Who told you that?” She could hear Scott’s grin. 

Baker didn’t reply immediately, stuttering over some kind of answer.

“The pilot controls it all.” Scott told him, “That’s why there’s only a couple of us, we have to do both jobs ourselves, Artemis just allows us to do so.”

“And they picked you, the legacy.” 

Lucy was used to the tone, had heard it in other airmen and her husband enough times to know the subtle hint of venom meant jealousy and envy over anything else. There would be no outright fights, not whilst on duty. On the base their words were their worst weapon and their best defence. A brawl would only come if it spilled over into their down time in the village.

“The top of my class, the youngest Captain this century, take your pick of titles, I don’t mind.”

“So why’s she here?” Baker spat.

Lucy turned, ready to defend herself as she found the pair toe to toe, only to spot Rodgers striding towards them.

“General.” She snapped, shifting to attention. 

Scott and Baker immediately followed suit, saluting the man as he passed them.

“Captain Baker, I trust you don’t have an issue with Sergeant Taylor doing her job.” Rodgers turned to the man, “I invited her out of retirement myself.”

Baker glanced in her direction, “Sergeant Taylor, Sir?”

“We’re in a war zone, man, discretion is key when it comes to our more high profile recruits.” He turned and nodded to Lucy, “Carry on Sergeant, I heard you promised the Major this would be ready for afternoon exercises.”

“Yes, Sir.” Lucy saluted, turning back to the stubborn bolt she had been working on. 

“Engineers are your friend, Baker, you bring back a damaged plane, they get you back in the air. If I were you, I’d be doing all I could to keep them on my good side, especially on a base this small.”

“Sir.” Was all Baker had to say for himself. 

“Tracy.” 

“Sir?”

“Help your mother with that bolt, and then report to my office, I have an assignment for your team.”

She held in her laugh until both Rodgers and Baker were out of earshot, unable to help herself as Scott ducked under the fuselage. His grin was just as wide as he glanced out into the sunlight, making sure both were gone as he reached up to the ratchet and gave a solid tug. 

“So were you going to hit him with the ratchet or just give him that look you get when you’re really angry?”

His question set her off again, forcing her to take a breath to stifle the giggles, “I was going to say a few choice words that your Grandmother would wash my mouth out for using.”

Scott tugged again on the ratchet, frowning as he changed the angle he was standing at. She had to admit she was just slightly grateful, if he was struggling, it was likely she never would have managed. 

“I’ll get the nutrunner,” she told him, patting his arm, “go and get your brief.”

He sighed as he released the ratchet, shaking his head at the bolt, “Put it back together just as strong.”

“When I’m done, it’ll be stronger .” She told him, “We still calling home tonight?”

“As long as I’m back from drills.” Scott nodded, stepping out from under the jet, “I’ll see you at handover?”

“One o’clock,” She called after him, “don’t be late!”

He threw a mock salute at her as he backed out of the hangar, jogging off in the direction of the offices. She knew he’d be there ten minutes early, just because he could, an extra chance to catch up and show off exactly how much he knew. Jeff had always been the same when she had been working on his wings, eager to hear just what she’d gotten up to within the belly of the machine that would take him to the skies. 

Just as she had predicted, he had turned up early, eager to climb into the cockpit and familiarise himself with the new controls. Rodgers, the first to fly an Artemis jet, was due to join them to teach Scott the tics and tricks of the system, but being a Tracy, Lucy had known her son would want to be one step ahead. 

She had perched herself on the wing as he had settled into the cockpit, feeling how the pedals and levers responded to his touch. Her sketchpad was a constant companion in the hangar, ready for any such moment when she needed a break or time to think. It had been a long time since she had sketched anything on a base, but the lines and angles came back like old friends as she found her inspiration. 

That evening Scott could only enthuse about the jet to his father, eager to talk shop as soon as he made it in from his drills. Lucy had been happy to listen, glad that it had exceeded his expectations and been as responsive as she had hoped. The other boys had all been eager to talk too, telling them about their final weeks of summer and swimming and college applications. John was away in New York, equally as eager to pass on the regards of Hugh Creighton-Ward whose daughter he had met in the city after becoming acquaintances at Oxford.

When the boys had all finally lost interest and Scott and John had headed off to bed, Lucy had smiled to Jeff with little else to say.

“I’ve sent you something in the post.” 

He raised his eyebrows, “With our postal service you’d have probably been better bringing it yourself next time you’re home.”

“Maybe,” She admitted, fighting a yawn, “but it wouldn’t have been the same.”

His chuckle was soft across the miles, “Go and get some sleep Luce, I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.” 

“Copy that.” She sighed, “Love you too.”

Chapter Text

“Mom, look!” Scott laughed as he threw a snowball at Jeff, Alan copying his older brother, only for his ball to fall short. 

***

“Mom, please .” Scott begged as she turned to head back towards the chalet, ignoring his plea for one last run.

***

“Mom, get inside!” Scott yelled as the rumble turned into a wall of snow, Alan in his arms as he raced towards her.

***

“Mom, it--it stopped.” Scott stuttered as he felt his Grandfather’s neck for a pulse. 

***

“Mom, what do we do?” Scott asked as he followed her away from the body, on to another person that needed their help. 

***

“Mom, I’m glad you didn’t listen when I said we should go for one last run.” Scott admitted months later, once the snow had melted, “I don’t know what we’d have done if we’d have lost you too.”

~

Scott had been out for most of the day with his squad, as had the majority of other pilots on the base, a hard attack she had overheard Generals saying. Before lunch a recon mission in the South had needed support, scrambling the last few of the crews that had been left behind. 

It seemed eerie for so few people to be left behind. 

No base she had ever worked on had been so small to start with, only a handful of staff needed for the general running of the place, and herself one of only three engineers managing the maintenance of the American planes. It was small, but comfortable, the people familiar even in the short two weeks they had been there. 

“Bonjour David,” She greeted the chef in the lunch queue, “Qu'est-ce qu'on mange pour le déjeuner aujourd'hui?”

The hulk of a man smiled at her, gesturing to the chicken and dauphinoise potatoes as he told her about each dish. He did well to keep them all fed, always ensuring there was enough to go around with little going to waste as he checked in on each table as they ate. 

It wasn’t like anything Lucy had ever experienced before. 

“Sergeant Taylor, report to General Rodger’s office immediately.” 

She frowned at the tannoy’s announcement as she set her tray down, waving David off as she turned, immediately sprinting in the direction she had been requested. It was a task to clear her mind of all the possible reasons she had been summoned, nothing good ever came of speculation. It would only take her two minutes to get there if she ran, only one hundred and twenty seconds. 

The roar of engines drew her eyes upward as she ran, the noise familiar but unexpected. 

Immediately she knew what was wrong.

Sergeant Taylor knew each of the base's planes intimately, inside and out. 

She knew the planes flying over her head were the wrong colour. 

“Shit.” She uttered under her breath as she flew through the door and along the halls of offices, barely stopping to greet the General as she entered his space. 

Right as the first missile hit. 

It shook the ground beneath her feet, sent a glass tumbling off of the General’s desk as the blinds shook and windows rattled. 

“We’ve been caught.” Rodgers told her, “There’s reports of a second squadron inbound, they’re going to level the place and I don’t imagine they’ll take prisoners.”

Lucy straightened, gaping, “Why are you telling me this?”

He watched her for a long moment, another bomb shaking the building, sending dust falling from the ceiling, “We hoped it would be over before they realised which base we were using, that the risk of being so close to the border would be mitigated by the time-frame.”

“ Why ?” She demanded, not caring for the details, not understanding what he needed of her.

“Jeff Tracy saved my life, I promised myself I’d repay him one day.” His eyes turned to the window, “Get your boy to safety, Lucy, do whatever you must and then get yourself out of here.”

She swallowed, “I have nowhere to go.”

No plane to fly, no road covered enough to out maneuver an aircraft. 

“I’m--” Rodgers looked away from her as he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Sir! They’ve taken out the tower, we’ve lost all comms.”

He looked to her once more, “ Go .”

She didn’t look back as she ran, knowing that staying inside was risky, but open air was riskier. 

“Eos, Cat six, get me through to Scott NOW. ”

She followed the rest of the men trained in combat, taking what munitions she was offered and not questioning it. 

Her family had always been into hunting, a different kind of marksmanship, but something that had served her well regardless. The rifle she was handed was something she’d practiced with for years, even after leaving the force she had joined Val on plenty of days at the shooting range. 

She could only pray she could put all the theory into practice. 

“Sergeant, what’s happening?” Scott finally answered, “We’ve lost all comms with base.”

“Base is under aerial attack.” She advised, dodging a spray of bullets from a swooping jet, “Repeat, we are under attack.”

She had to make a decision, a call on where to direct him as the men in their ivory towers scrambled to find some form of solution.

“Return to base for support.” She directed, “But Apollo, you are not to land under any circumstances, copy?”

His silence was too telling.

“ Apollo .” 

She could hear the grinding of his teeth as he answered, “Copy.”

There was no further response as she raised her gun towards the plane that was lining up with the runway closest to her, all of her focus on each steady breath as she lined up the shot. 

She wasn’t certain it was enough to permanently rid them of that specific aircraft, but it was something as it pulled up and away from the base. 

“Taylor!”

Looking up, she raised her eyebrow at Rodgers, “General?”

He handed her a magazine, “I thought I told you to get out of here.”

She raised her gun again, taking aim at the next aircraft that swept too low. 

“Air support is headed this way.” She told him, “And my family isn’t the kind to run away from a fight.”

His look was knowing, his smile tight as he nodded slightly, joining her in her aim. 

The second jet didn’t have a chance to pull up, instead taking out a hangar on the far side of the base. 

Behind them another missile landed, its shockwave sending them both stumbling down on the tarmac. The base was already unrecognisable, buildings on all sides taken out, the once smooth concrete snapped into fragments. People that had once moved with refined purpose were running, trying to find somewhere to be useful. In place of the strict organisation that she knew of each and every base she had visited, chaos reigned. 

“We need more guns on the runway, stop them from landing,” She looked to Rodgers, remembering herself, “Sir.”

He smiled as he shouldered his rifle, “Remind me why you never applied for promotion to an Officer?”

If a jet hadn’t dipped so close to them at that moment, she might have laughed. 

“We get out of here alive, and I’ll tell you.” 

His smile was daring as he looked across to her, “Get to the West runway, you’ll have more cover there from the bunk rooms, I’ll send any men I can find across to you.” 

She didn’t wait for further instructions as she ran, calling for backup as she went. It was far enough for two bombs to fall behind her as she moved, tripping her as she went.

The sting of the grazes on her palms was nothing compared to the adrenaline in her veins, the racing of her heart in her chest. She knew she had to get up again, she had to move, to help the people that had looked after her for the last two weeks. 

“This is Apollo to base, air support coming in hot.” 

The relief of seeing her son’s jet overhead was familiar, but Lucy had never been so grateful to hear the sound of her eldest’s voice in the midst of such terror. 

“Apollo,” She responded, “we have men directing fire to enemy craft on the Western runway, they’re attempting landings.”

Scott’s answer wasn’t immediate, his focus taken up by chasing after one of the enemy planes, ducking and diving in ways she knew Jeff would be proud of. 

“Why would they want to land?” Baker asked, alerting Lucy that Scott had managed to patch all comms through Eos. 

As her son’s plane swept north, gaining altitude as he went, it all fell into place.

“They want Artemis.” She swallowed, “They’d have double the birds in the sky, enough to launch attacks like this on bigger bases.”

She couldn’t afford to search for Scott’s jet in the sky, her focus was needed on the next plane hurtling towards the runway. All she could think of was the implications though, the risk of the small war between one nation and its neighbour becoming something far, far, bigger. 

“Apollo, you cannot land.” She reiterated, “They cannot get their hands on any jet with the Artemis tech on board.”

For the sake of their family, for the sake of the millions of families across Europe. 

“Copy that, Taylor.” Scott answered, “‘Burra, Merc, stay with me. BJ, Buzzard, I want you to cover Falcon. Toast, I need two of your wings to cover Toto.”

“Copy, Apollo.” Baker confirmed before sending two pilots as Scott had directed. 

“All units, this is a dogfight, keep the enemy off the ground and away from all Artemis craft.” His voice was strained, worry seeping in that Lucy knew nobody else would hear, “Froufrou, any luck with calling in backup?”

The negative response was heavily accented, the French squadron leader clearly tense across the line. 

“Apollo, send someone out of range,” She instructed, ducking as debris from a downed plane flew in her direction, “our comms are damaged, the signal might not be getting out.”

“With all due respect, Sergeant, I am the Captain.”

She bit her tongue, turning her gun on the pilot that had stumbled from the plane which had landed. The fence beyond the runway caught her attention, the hole blown in the chain-link filled with something that made her blood run cold. 

“Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.” She called into the comm, hoping Scott had instructed Eos to open the line up across the base, “We have troops on the ground at the Western perimeter. Repeat, there are troops on the ground.”

She caught sight of Rodgers running for her, his arms waving for her to move . 

A small fragment of her attention hadn’t left the downed pilot, her brain registering the gun he pulled and aimed before she was fully aware of it. Her own gun fired first, two shots landing just where she needed, sparing Rodgers. 

The General nodded to her as he grabbed her arm, “Thanks, Sergeant.”

“Do we have a plan?” She asked, eyes going back to the men sweeping out from the truck at the perimeter, “They’re here for Artemis.” 

Rodgers’ face was grim as he nodded, “We figured as much. There’s no signal getting in or out of the base, the Major’s are arming themselves as we speak.” 

Shouldering her gun, Lucy nodded, “So we fight.”

“No.” Rodgers grabbed her shoulder, “You run, Taylor. They’re here for Artemis, which was always your project. They get you and they won’t stop until you give them what they came for.”

He nodded past the bunks, “There’s a hole in that fence, run and don’t look back. A team will find you.”

It was an order, perhaps not direct, nor as strict, as it should have been but she knew there was no other option. She had the training to survive, had pushed herself through it at Val and Jeff’s side all those years before. She could run, she’d spent years training for cross-country before she had joined the force. 

But she wasn’t sure she could leave. 

The whistle of a bomb distracted them both, the bunks clearly the intended target. 

The bunks that they were standing far too close to. 

“ Go !” Rodgers yelled, shoving her.

It wasn’t enough, the crash of the missile sent her stumbling, a shower of debris cutting into her clothes as she fell to the floor. She didn’t dare look back for Rodgers, afraid of what she might see. 

She hated that he was right, hated that it was her that had brought the danger to her son. 

Pushing herself to her feet, she paused as the world around her spun. The whine and groan of aircraft was louder, the whip of bullets closer. They were coming for her.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, she ran, wincing as her chest protested against the sudden movement. She didn’t have an option, there was nowhere left to hide.

“Eos,” She panted, leaning against a half fallen wall to catch her breath, “do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Send a recording of everything this afternoon to Val. But promise me, Jeff and the boys never see this footage. Not from you, or the media, or wherever else. They-- they don’t need to see what happened here, but I need Val to know the danger. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lucy.”

“Thank you, Eos, for everything.”

She turned her back to the base, going for the hole in the fence Rodgers had told her about. It went against every fibre of her being, every instinct as a mother, but she knew it was right. 

Hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her back.

“No!” She yelled, flinging the butt of her gun at them, satisfied at the crunch of a nose as it made contact. 

Someone grabbed, yanking the gun from her grasp as hands gripped her hair and pulled. She wasn’t aware of her own cry as she kicked, her foot landing against something solid as something cold was pressed to her jaw.

“We won’t kill you.” The accent was thicker than the French she had gotten used to hearing, “Do not fight, pretty lady.” 

She grit her teeth, eyeing up the man with her gun and assessing the strength of the arm that held her. 

Lucy was strong, brave. She knew how to fight and she knew how to win. 

But she was an engineer, a woman. Her strength was nothing compared to theirs, her knowledge pointless in an unfair fight. 

“Are you the engineer?” The one with her gun asked as he slung it over his shoulder.

Her answer hardly mattered. 

“Yes.” She swallowed, knowing it was her best chance, “I am.”

“Then you we take.” He smiled, swinging her gun up onto his shoulder, “See, not so hard.”

Her stomach flipped. She knew what came next, where they would take her and what questions they would ask. There would be no reprieve unless she told them, they would take and take again until she gave them what they asked for. Answers that she knew she would never give. 

All she had to do was hold out. Scott would get away, would raise hell with his father and Val. She could survive until then. 

She had to. 

“Taylor, come in.” Scott’s voice at her wrist was the last thing she needed to hear in that moment. 

“You are Taylor, no?” The man holding her asked. 

She swallowed, not daring to answer.

“Pretty lady, you should answer my friend.”

“ Taylor .” Scott demanded, “Where are you?”

He had promised he wouldn’t land, but Lucy knew it held no meaning when she couldn’t answer him. The Generals had been right when they had sent Rodgers to call her in, without a co-pilot Scott had nobody else to protect, nobody else he was responsible for getting home safe. Placing her on the base had given him a reason to fly safe, to not pull stunts and risk himself. 

What none of them had ever accounted for was what her son would do if it was herself in danger. 

“Sergeant Taylor.” She whispered, closing her eyes, “Six Five, Zero Seven Eight, Four Five Four.”

“Taylor!” 

Her eyes snapped open, looking past the man with the gun for the voice that was too clear to have possibly been across a comm. 

Shaking her head, she could only mouth words, fear stealing her voice when she needed it most. 

The man with the gun turned as Scott pulled his own pistol from his flight suit. 

“Let her go.” He demanded, stepping forward with each word. 

“Apollo,” Lucy begged, finding her voice but not sure she trusted herself, “ run .”

He needed to get home, to hug his brothers and tell them it would be okay. She couldn’t let him end up where she was going, he couldn’t follow her. 

“Why do you care?” The man asked, swinging Lucy’s gun down and aiming. 

“Let. Her. Go.” Scott repeated. 

He was focussed on them, his vision tunneled despite everything else going on around them. Lucy knew as far as he cared there was only one possible outcome. 

She knew he didn’t see the men approaching him from behind with the buts of their guns raised in readyness. The press of the gun against her chin warned her against screaming out, against protecting him. 

She was helpless to do anything as her son fell to the ground and she was dragged away through the hole in the fence. 

Chapter Text

“How many times have we told him Jeff?” Lucy asked as she slammed the cupboard door closed harder than necessary, “Any tree on the farm is fine, except that one!”

He handed her another plate from the dishwasher, “I know, Honey.”

“He knows it’s dangerous, but he ignored us anyway! What if it wasn’t his arm he broke? What if he hit his head? Or his back ? What if--”

“Lucy.” Jeff caught her, taking the plate from her shaking hands as he pulled a chair from the table, “Sit down, Honey.”

Sighing she eased herself down into the chair, holding her belly as the baby kicked in protest against her outburst. 

Jeff crouched in front of her, holding the opposite side of her stomach with one hand as the other took hold of her fingers with a gentle squeeze. The grey-blue of his eyes was worried as he searched her face for something she wasn’t sure he would find, until the baby kicked again and a smile replaced his frown. 

“I know you’re worried,” He murmured, “but Scott’s okay.”

“We told him.” She whispered, her lip trembling at the memory of Virgil’s panicked yell, “We told him so many times.”

Jeff kissed her stomach, “As our parents warned us, and did we listen to everything they had to say?”

She sighed, trying to find an argument, sure that her warnings were different. 

“He’s a young boy, Lucy, our young boy.” Jeff smiled sadly as he reached up to wipe her cheeks, “The stories my Ma could tell of all the ‘I told you so’s’ she could have said.” 

She knew her parents would have their own such stories, a daughter stubborn and certain that she knew better than her parents ever would, a wife that had once occasionally thought the same about her husband. 

“Scott is almost eleven.” Jeff continued softly, his thumbs still soothing over her cheeks, “He’s going to push the boundaries, and argue, and fight. He will ignore us and do things his own way and learn for himself from his own mistakes.”

He stood to kiss her hair, holding her close for a moment before tilting her chin to look at him.

“And we will be here to help him up, to make sure he learns the lessons even when we’ve told him them a thousand times.”

It had been easy to do that much before Jeff’s second Moon mission, she had been happy watching her little boys grow and figure out life on their terms as they explored the world around them. Scott, who had been five and full of confidence that he could do anything, would test her boundaries and grin at her cheekily even when he knew he’d lost. John had been more cautious in his approach, more willing to listen to his mother’s warnings but still all too happy to copy his big brother's antics. 

There had been trips and falls, burned fingers from hot cookies, and cold hands when they’d forgotten their gloves, but each time they had learned and each time they had hugged her just as tightly. 

Then Virgil had been born two months early, and Gordon had followed a short thirty months later by emergency section. Jeff had been gone for most of each of their pregnancies, away on ground-breaking missions to the Moon and Mars. Her midwife, Sofia, had assured Lucy she had done nothing wrong for either, that nature had simply had its own plans for her boys. 

By the time Jeff had made it home to meet four month old Gordon, she had been certain she had failed them all. 

“Lucy,” Jeff murmured, “we did our job, we warned him of the danger, he’s old enough to choose what he does with that information. Just like you were when I told you not to climb that same tree.”

His comment startled a laugh from her as she wiped her own eyes, “You’re right.” 

He knelt again, his hands holding hers warm and secure, “I know you’re scared that what happened with Virgil and Gordon could happen with this baby, but you did everything right for both of them. For all of our boys you have, and will always, do your very best for them. I know you, Lucille Tracy, I know how strong and brave you are, I know how you will always fight for your family. I know you are the best wife, and mother we could ask for.”

“I can’t protect them forever.” 

Jeff shook his head, “No, but I know you’d try.”

Her hand rubbed over her belly, “What if this goes wrong?”

Jeff’s smile was kind as he covered her hand, “But darling, what if it doesn’t?”

~

Two hours they had driven for, mostly through forest tracks that twisted and turned and backtracked. The trees stretched high, too far for her to see the sun and work out a direction even when she had tried and they had shouted and pushed her back down to the bed of the truck. 

She hadn’t allowed herself to spare a thought of Scott, she couldn’t consider what they might have done to him, not when she needed to survive. 

Not even when they had stripped her of her watch and thrown her in a cell had she allowed herself to shed the tears that threatened. They would know, of that she was sure. She wouldn’t cry, she would be strong, stubborn, brave as her family knew her to be. She would stand tall each time they came and she would give them nothing. 

Eventually they would grow bored.

Eventually a rescue would come. 

She stood quickly as the bolt on the door grated, her hands tight by her sides to hide the way they shook. 

The man that stepped in was dressed smarter than those that had taken her, his uniform one of a Major or Colonel, she guessed. He was broad and tall, filling the whole doorway as he stepped through it, his boots loud against the stone. 

“Sergeant Taylor.” He frowned at her, his English clearer than the others but still accented, “You are a woman.” 

At home she might have bit back at the bait, nothing had ever stopped her before. 

The way he continued told her he hadn’t expected an answer anyway.

“I am Major Duval, our Colonels have asked me to find out about a program of yours.” He paused as he stepped closer to her, “The Artemis Project, you know of it?”

She didn’t blink as she watched him, remaining silent, giving him nothing. 

His smile was white as he nodded, “I approve, a woman that knows when to keep quiet will always scream the loudest eventually.”

The implication set bile burning up her throat as his eyes dropped to her body. 

“Bring him.”

She didn’t look away from him as a man in a flight suit was dragged into the room and deposited on the floor next to the Major. His hands were bound at his back and a patch of blood stained the sack over his head that hid exactly who he was, even if his frame and clothing matched that of the boy she hoped it wasn’t. 

“Do you know this man, Taylor?”

She glanced down and back to him, “Not without seeing his face.”

Duval nodded, crouching just enough to pull at the corner of the sack with a single firm tug. The boy at his feet gasped out audibly as he was jostled with the movement before the Major pulled him upright by his scalp. 

“Now?”

Lucy swallowed, fighting every urge in her heart to scream in the face of the Major.

“I know him.”

“Why did he come back for you?”

Scott’s features were screwed shut, his face giving away nothing but the pain being caused by Duval. 

“I don’t know.” 

Her son fell to the floor in a heap. 

“I give you one hour to find out, then you will tell me who this man is.” 

She didn’t respond, didn’t flinch as he turned away, throwing a kick in Scott’s direction as he went. She waited until the door was bolted, until the boots had vanished down the hallway, before she allowed herself to breathe and fall to her son’s side. 

“Are you hurt?” She asked, tugging at the rope binding his hands.

Scott huffed as he rolled to sit up, “They took me out with a buttstroke, but other than that I’m fine.”

That much she had seen, she knew the image would live in her nightmares for the rest of her life. 

She wanted to hug him, to assure him things would be okay and that they’d work something out. None of it would do them any good though. They couldn’t let on to the enemy who they were to each other, it was why she had gone by Taylor, why Rodgers had reacted when Baker had called them out. 

“I’m glad, Captain.” She uttered, shuffling away to the wall facing the door, “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

I’m sorry you got hurt for me . She wanted him to hear. 

Scott stood, stretching his arms out for a moment before settling on the floor next to her. There was a streak of blood trailing down into his collar, no doubt a cut where he’d been hit with the gun earlier.

“I thought you’d be mad at me for not listening.”

She raised an eyebrow as she looked to him, “I’m a female engineer, I live and work with men, I’m used to not being listened to.”

Scott knew as well as she did that the force had more female pilots than ever, he would know she wasn’t speaking of the base they had been plucked from, but about home, their family. Five boys equally as stubborn as their parents, had inevitably raised challenges of who knew best. She wondered if he remembered being ten and confident that his Mom had never climbed the tree by the barn, so how could she possibly have known it was unsafe? 

“Sometimes it’s better to collaborate on ideas.” He shrugged, glancing towards the door.

Fight together . Is what she heard, just like he’d tried to do before they’d been taken. 

“We don’t fight.” She hissed, “ Captain , whatever happens next we save our strength and we survive .”

The blue of his eyes was cold as he looked down to her, “Sergeant, these people came for a fight, they won’t stop until they get one.”

They would come down harder on him, a man, her superior. If Scott fought, they would fight harder, until he had no fight left.

“And they’ll get bored if we don’t give them one!” She persisted.

“And then they see us as weak!” Scott snapped, “I have trained for this Sergeant, I know what I need to do.”

She wanted to bite back, to put the boy in his place and remind him just what she had done before he had been born. There was more to it though, her experience, her forty some years of life and facing the world and all it threw at her. She’d faced down Colonels in a bad mood, sure, but there had been so much more that she had seen. People that had looked down on a pregnant woman walking the halls of NASA to demand a line with her husband. People that had seen a woman with a newborn in her arms as she had presented her thesis at CalTech. People that had commented on her position at Tracy Industries when she knew she was the best engineer they had. 

The grate of the bolt stopped any words between them both, each quick to stand as a pair of soldiers stepped in.

“Major Duval does not like shouting.” The man that had taken Lucy’s gun on the base stated with a shake of his head, “Pretty lady, you will come with us.”

Scott stepped forward, “No, she won’t.”

To say anything as he swung at them, to try and stop him, would have given them both away. All she could do was stand and watch as two men returned Scott’s punches, swinging time and again until he was on the floor, unmoving.

She didn’t fight as they took her, past four other doors in the hallway and to the corridor on the right. As they had taught her, she counted the steps, hoping they would bring her back the same way.

The room they brought her to was colder than the cell, damp like the old wash house always had been on her parents ranch. The tilted table in the centre was metal, cold, and obviously clear with its purpose as they strapped her to it. Each instrument on the wall shone as the spotlight was shifted into position over her, catching her off guard and blinding her for a moment. 

When she could see again, Duval was there. 

“Why do you argue with the Captain, Ms Taylor?”

In that room, silence wouldn’t save her. 

“We were not arguing.” She bit out between gritted teeth, trying to kick as she spotted one of the men at her feet unlacing her boot. 

The leather restraints bit into her uniform, not giving a millimeter. 

“Then what was it you were discussing?” Deval leant over her, “Why he came back?”

She eyed him, “Not that.”

His hum was surprised as he stepped back, walking around to the end of the table as her socks were pulled from her feet. 

“Ms Taylor, do you believe that because you are a woman, I will be lenient on you?”

She smiled, “I think because I am a woman you will underestimate me.” 

It was a dangerous move, one that would likely bring him down all the harder on her. 

If it distracted him from Scott though, kept them entertained for long enough, perhaps they would get bored before they got to him. Even in that hell-hole, she knew she had to protect him. 

The shock to her foot made her jump, the attack unexpected, as it jarred a yell from her.

“Why did he come back for you?” Duval asked, calm, cold. 

Sucking in a breath as the cattle prod sparked in the soldier's hand, she shook her head slowly, “I am Sergeant Taylor of the USAF. Serial number six five, zero seven eight, four five four.”

She expected the next shock on her other foot, knew to grit her teeth against it despite how her ankle kicked involuntarily against the restraints. 

“Why, Ms Taylor? What does the Captain know?”

The standardised response was all she gave him, even as the shocks continued with each repeat of the question. She didn’t doubt it was intentional that the room was so close to their cell, she knew Scott would hear her if she let out a yell, he would know what they were doing. 

Only once she was sweating, her words panted out between breaths, did Duval move from the foot of the table. He leaned over her face, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. 

“I will ask you once more before I go to the Captain, Ms Taylor. What does he know?”

She spat in his face, knowing it would antagonize him, knowing it would give Scott more time. 

The sting of his hand against her cheek burned but was the least of what she expected. It was a surprise as he walked away, pausing at the door with a glance over her body. Bereznian words passed from him to the others that had been watching, a warning she could guess from the tone, followed by a promise from the Major as he watched her with a glint in his eye.

As the door closed, the soldiers turned to her with smiles on their faces.

“He says we should have fun with you.” One stated, his fingers drifting over the instruments on the wall, “Now, where do we start?”

She swallowed as another pulled a gun from his belt, “Pretty lady, we need you to scream.”

Chapter Text

Scott’s tears had barely dried up as Lucy touched the ice pack to his eye. The nine year old knew better than to start fights, but by all accounts, he had only been the one to step in after the fight had already started. 

It had earned him a black eye and an afternoon at home whilst his teachers spoke to Jeff and the parents of the other kids involved. 

“I was jus’ tryin’ to protect John.” He mumbled around the split lip, “I didn’t want to hurt them.”

Lucy sighed as she sat opposite him at the table, adjusting her hold on the pack as she shook her head, “You should have told a teacher.”

“But they were gonna beat him up!” 

“ Scott .”

His shoulders fell, his entire frame wilting in the seat, “Everyone says that nobody likes a snitch, I didn’ wanna snitch Mom!” 

That, she could understand, school was hard enough without the stupid rules that kids made up and passed from one class to another. It had been easy when he had been younger to convince him to share what was needed with the adults for them to sort, but as the years had gone on and the politics of the classroom had developed, she had noticed the regression. 

“Nobody likes people that hurt one another either.” She told him gently, peeking under the ice pack, “Scott, you knew they were going to hurt John so you deliberately stepped in so they’d hurt you instead.”

“I was just try’na be brave.” 

She caught his chin, tilting his head back for a better look, “Being brave doesn’t mean the same as winning a fight.”

Scott frowned, wincing as he did so, his hand reaching up to feel around his eye, “It doesn’t?”

“No.” She sighed, pulling his hand away, “It means doing what’s right, even if it’s easier to do something else.”

He sighed dramatically in return, “I don’t get it.” 

Lucy shook her head as she brushed his hair back, looking for the words to get him to understand, “Would it have been easier to go and tell a teacher?”

“ No ,” He scoffed like she was a dumb adult, “everyone would have hated me.”

“Exactly, but it’s the right thing to do,” She caught his hand before he could reach up again, “the teacher would have stopped the fight without anyone else getting hurt.”

“So I should have done that, even though everyone would have hated me?”

Leaning in, she dropped her voice down to a whisper, “I think a lot of people would have admired you for it.”

Understanding crossed his face, a lightbulb going off behind his eyes as he sat straighter in his seat. 

“You mean it’s one’a those things people say will happen that won’t really happen?”

It perhaps wasn’t quite the point she had been aiming for, but Lucy had to admit it was near enough. 

“Sort of.” She nodded, “Sometimes, it’s okay to snitch.”

“But only sometimes?” He asked, eyes narrowing on her, “How will I know?”

Both looked around as the screen door clattered, John and Virgil both calling out for their big brother. 

“One day, you’ll know.” She assured him, pulling away the ice pack and nodding for him to go and see his brothers. 

~

“Where is she?” Scott demanded as soon as it was clear they hadn’t brought his mother back to their cell, “What have you done to her?”

He’d heard a single yell what felt like a lifetime ago, and not a sound since. It had been hard to not read too much into it, hard to not consider what they could possibly be doing. His mother was a brave and strong woman, but Scott knew the lengths people would go to for the information they wanted. 

They hadn’t answered except with their fists, three of them wrestling him to the floor and binding his hands before they hoisted him up and out of the cell. 

He counted, as he had been trained to, each door and step away hoping that they would take him back the same way. A turn left rather than right probably meant nothing, but was catalogued regardless as he was pulled along, it was a detail to remember something that could become important later. 

The room he was taken to was bare, void of anything he had expected and been warned of. A single hook hanging from the ceiling was the only thing there, and he was unsurprised when they hung his bound wrists from it. 

His body already ached from the earlier beatings, his head barely recovered from the blow back on the base. Outwardly, he gave away nothing as they hoisted him up, even though everything screamed as he was left with the toes of his boots barely brushing the floor. He focussed only on each breath coming steady and even as the three soldiers that had fetched him stood at attention along the wall facing him. 

They expected him to be spooked, to demand answers and feel threatened by the vulnerable position. 

Scott Tracy didn’t scare so easily. 

“Captain.” Duval’s voice announced from behind him as a door clanged, “I am disappointed by what little Ms Taylor has told me.”

Scott refused to play their games, knew better than to turn to look at him, keeping his eyes front and centre until the man stood in front of him. Even then, he didn’t respond, didn’t really look. It was easier that way, to zone out and pretend he wasn’t even in the room with them. 

Duval knew where Mom was though.

As a scream cut through the air, Scott’s heart froze in his chest. 

“Maybe she will be more forthcoming once my men are finished with her.” Duval sighed, “Have you ever had an electric shock, Captain?”

He had, both on the farm and as part of training, the thought of it twisted his stomach. 

“You can stop it, Captain.” Duval told him, “I just need to know why you wanted to save her.” 

Scott pressed his lips thin, knowing that the truth wasn’t something he could share. Mom had gone radio silent and Eos had warned him of the enemy advancing on her. He had acted impulsively, had told his team to destroy his jet if he wasn’t back in five minutes and taken a gamble in trying to land on the half destroyed North runway. 

Another scream, another twist of his stomach. 

“I can’t tell you that.” He muttered, knowing that he would be asked again. 

“Oh, come now Captain,” Duval stepped closer to him, “the lady must mean something to you.”

The screams stopped and Scott couldn’t help but glance to his side, listening, waiting. 

Nothing more came. 

“Hmm,” Duval hummed, “typical woman, they never last long, do they?”

Scott glared at the man, swallowing back his own questions of what they had done to her. He wanted to threaten them, tell them exactly what he would do for daring to harm her. What good was it though? He had no weapons, no power against them. All he had were the words and the answer he knew he couldn’t give away.

“Is she the one that knows of the Artemis project?”

“I cannot answer that.” Scott bit out, hating himself as the screams started again. 

“She must be.” The man mused, “Is that why you went back for her? To try and protect her? To be a hero?” He scoffed as he looked Scott over, “Are you the hero you wanted to be, Captain?”

He wasn’t.

“No? Nothing?” Duval sighed, stepping back and waving at one of his men, “Very well.”

The soldier left, the door slamming behind him. Duval stepped over to Scott, nudging him with the toe of his boot, sending him in a slow spin until he was facing the door.

As his spin was halted, the screams stopped again.

“I will ask once more, Captain, and then I will kill the woman as she obviously is not all that important to you.” Duval looked across to him, “Why did you try to save her?”

Any blood that had been left in his face, drained immediately at the words. He couldn’t tell them, it would be a death sentence for both of them, but he couldn’t pretend like she was nothing to him. He couldn’t lie, knowing they would kill her, just to confirm his reaction. 

“Too slow.”

Two gunshots. 

Scott lurched forward against his restraints, not feeling how they bit into his skin as his heart stopped. 

“No!” He screamed, needing to make it to the door, needing to make it out and back to the cell, “No! Mom!” 

The word slipped out before he realised what he was saying, but he didn’t care. What did it matter? They’d killed her. 

They’d killed her because they thought she was nobody, because Scott had let them believe that. He hadn’t stopped them, had been too slow to think of something to save her. 

As his heart raced in his ears and his stomach churned, cold realisation choked the scream that had been rising in his throat. 

They would use it. 

He had let slip that she was his Mom, and he didn’t need to see the smiles on their faces to know that every time he was dragged from his cell, they would use that information against him. Torture, designed and personalised just for him. 

“Thank you for that information, Captain.” The leader turned to the other men in the room, waving towards Scott with a nonchalance that didn’t match the smile on his face. 

He was cut down unceremoniously, landing on the cold stone of the floor with an ‘ooft’ and barely given a chance to catch his breath before he was hoisted up. It was a struggle to get his feet under himself, his legs feeling like matchsticks as he tried to support himself. The same pair that had plucked him from the cell dragged him back, equally as silent as they had been once the door had slammed shut. It was just as unnerving as it had been before, there should have been jibes and taunts, they had their material handed to them on a platter, yet they refused to use it. 

All Scott could hear was the thundering of his own heart in his ears, twice as loud as it had been when they had been questioning him, as if making up for the one that he knew wasn’t beating any more because of him. It thrummed strong and fast, ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.

My-fault. My-fault. My-fault. My-fault.

His stomach churned as he lost his feet under himself, there was no warning as it emptied itself over one of the guard’s shoes. 

Both yelled, the first noise either had made since Scott had left the cell, each letting him drop to the floor again. He winced as his shoulder bounced off the stone, knowing it would bruise later. Curses in a language he didn’t know filled his senses as the same boot he had vomited over kicked out, landing square in his stomach. It was quickly followed by another, and another, neither taking any particular aim, just so long as they landed somewhere against his body. 

His fault , he was sure they were telling him. He deserved it , he managed to pick out in broken English. 

They were right.

It was all his fault. 

He should never have gone back, he should have done as his mother had said. Maybe he could have gotten help, sent out a search, rescued her from the base without the need for her to get hurt. 

If only he had listened. 

A kick to his chest winded him, leaving him gasping, desperate to catch his breath. A hand in his flight suit lifted him upright, the material tightening around his neck. 

“Weak American scum.” The guard that had lifted him uttered, his accent heavy against the English, “You not even fight.” 

Mom had told him to be brave, had reminded him that they couldn’t show weakness. Even though the thought of home made his stomach roll, he knew she would want him to get there. 

She would want him to fight, and survive. 

So he dared to gather the saliva in his mouth, and spit. 

The guard took no time in landing a fist against his face, snapping his head back against the wall. He felt the heat of his own blood as it trickled down his scalp, knew from playground bullies that his eye would eventually swell shut, but it was better than feeling nothing. 

Foreign shouting drew both guards' attention, as a Duval strode towards them. A brief argument between the trio gave him time to catch his breath and reign in his grief. There was no place for sorrow in the walls of a prison, not if he needed to survive. 

Not for himself, but for Mom, and for his brothers that he knew he had to get home to. 

Dad may never look him in the eye again, and Scott wouldn’t blame him, but he had to at least try to make it up to them all. 

There was no warning as he was dragged once more in the direction of their cell, Duval seemingly not trusting the guards as he followed them around the corner. He counted the doors as he had done on the way out, the fifth one they stopped at, just as he had hoped. 

The heavy door was pulled open, a muffled shout barely heard through the clunk of the bolt. Scott didn’t have a chance to look as he was thrown in, barely catching himself from hitting the floor again. His ribs hurt as he twisted to sit up, not daring to stand and face another fight. 

He only spared a moment to glare at them, more interested in who his new companion might be. 

When he looked around, all his strength left him. 

Scott had never seen amber eyes burn, but the glare being sent across the cell from the woman bound and gagged in the corner put even the brightest of fires to shame. 

He fell back to the floor, a sob catching in his throat. 

“Again,” Duval spoke, less accented than the other pair, “thank you for the information, Captain .”

The woman in the corner snarled around the cloth gag at the comment, lunging forward just as Scott had done when he had heard the two shots. The men at the door laughed at her, the noise loud against the silence of the cells. 

“Do not worry Momma,” The Major chuckled, “your boy told us what we wanted, we leave him alone for now.”

The burning in her eyes didn’t change as she watched them, not turning to look at Scott even as he had to look away from her. 

It had been a trick. Nothing more than a smart idea to get the answers they had wanted, and he had fallen right into it. He had given them away already, and it could have risked them everything. 

He flinched as the door slammed shut, closing his eyes as he curled in on himself and let the silent tears escape. 

“Scott.” 

He couldn’t face her, not when he had failed her already.

“Scott.” 

Not when they could have so easily killed her and he had done nothing about it. 

“ Scott , son, talk to me.” 

A lifetime of listening to the stern edge in her voice made him look at her, refusing to meet her eyes as he pulled himself more upright and shuffled towards the nearest wall. 

“Shit,” She whispered, “you’re bleeding.”

He shrugged as he brought his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, ignoring the ache down his entire right side. His eye was starting to hurt, the bruising no doubt starting to form, giving him reason to not look at her. 

Her sigh was audible across the cell, but it was the hum of concentration that drew his attention back to her. It hadn’t been a surprise that she’d been able to wriggle the cloth gag from her mouth to fall around her neck, that had always been easily done. That she was trying to wriggle free from whatever was holding her in that corner, immediately concerned him.

“No, wait.” He moved too quickly, his legs and chest protesting for a moment, forcing him to catch himself against the wall as he stood. 

The cell wasn’t big, barely three strides across for him before he was crouched behind her, tugging at the knotted rope that bound her to the loop in the wall. 

Her hands went straight to his face once they were free, forcing him to look at her properly. She didn’t need words, never had, it had always been that soft, just slightly concerned, look that had told him that she was listening to whatever he needed to say. 

“ Mom .” He choked out on a sob, falling from his crouch to his knees, his face landing against her shoulder. 

They hadn’t shot her. 

She was alive. 

But he had failed her so badly. 

“I’ve got you.” She whispered, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” He pulled away as he protested, catching the volume of his voice as he spoke. They both paused, glancing towards the door and waiting, each holding their breath until they were certain nobody would come for them. 

“It’s not .” He repeated, softer, “I-- I told them. They pretended to kill you and I believed them.”

Her eyes darted to the door, “That’s what the gunshots were.” 

“I--I couldn’t think of what to tell them, of how to stop them.” He swallowed, “I just-- It slipped out. I’m sorry.”

She reached to him, pulling him back to her when he didn’t protest. He pressed his lips tight, refusing to let anyone outside of the room hear his sobs as they shook his aching body. 

“You thought I was dead.” She whispered, “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t though. 

“It’s okay.” She told him again, her hands lightly rubbing his back, reinforcing her point, “You didn’t mean to.” 

He frowned, pulling away as he swiped at his eyes, “How do you--”

Her glance towards the door was wary as she sucked in a breath, “I heard you screaming for me after the shots.” 

Bile churned in his empty stomach at the implications of her words. 

“Everything is calculated.” Mom continued, looking back to him as she pulled at the cloth around her neck until it came loose. She didn’t hesitate in reaching behind his head with it, dabbing carefully at the blood there even as he winced at the touch. 

“Just a graze,” She tutted softly, “probably a concussion.”

Her worry was palpable, her need to move, to do anything that wasn’t sitting still, familiar in a weirdly comforting way. 

“Get some rest.” She told him as she sat back down against the wall, her arm wrapping around his shoulders as he shuffled over to her. 

There was a protest on his lips, he needed to look after her, keep her safe and be ready in case they came back for them. 

“Scott,” she cut into the thought, clearly catching his look back towards the door, “ rest . We’ll both need our strength for what comes next.”

The look in her eyes was hard, stubborn, determined, everything Scott had ever wanted to be when he had looked up as a little boy and seen the woman his mother was. 

Everything he had failed to be that day.

Chapter Text

The dinner had been the boys’ idea for his in-laws' anniversary, a solid rounding off of the whole trip to the French ski resort where Lucy’s parents had first met. Virgil and Gordon had made perfect excuses of wanting snacks for the flight home the following morning, insisting Jeff and John were the only ones allowed to take them down to the village to raid the shops. 

Scott and Alan, equally in on the idea, had dragged their mother and grandparents back out into the snow for a final afternoon of skiing. 

The plan was for them to return home right as dinner came out of the oven. 

“Dad! Dad!” 

He looked up at John’s excitement, glancing back to the cashier as he handed over his card for the groceries. 

“John, I’m just paying son, I told you boys to--”

“Everyone says there’s been an avalanche!” John grabbed his arm, eyes wide, afraid , “On the Golden Pine trail.”

His second son wasn’t prone to dramatics, never rushed to assumptions or made guesses when it came to important news. John, like his mother, was cool and calm when the world threw a curveball, he took it in his stride and kept moving. 

“He’s right.” The woman behind him stated, “The alert to shelter in place just came though.” 

The Golden Pine trail was where they were staying, the chalet big and open and looking out southward over the valley where they could see both sunrise and sunset on a clear day. 

Jeff’s heart rose into his throat, suffocating him as he realised - His family could have been out on the trail, possibly in the very path of the avalanche. There would have been nothing to warn them out there, no phone signal or alarms. 

He needed to move, to get up there, back to their rental. Lucy had shown him which trails she and her parents preferred, which ones he’d likely find her on if they got separated. It would make sense to start there and fan out in a grid. 

“Monsieur, you cannot--” The shop assistant tried to stop him as he took his card back, “The roads, they will be closed.”

He didn’t care as he took John by the shoulder, “Then I’ll walk.”

He wouldn’t stop until he’d dug through every foot of snow and found them.

~

It was early in the City That Never Sleeps, but John supposed that didn’t count for much. He had never much appreciated New York, too loud and busy compared to the likes of the farm or Harvard. 

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward had insisted though that he join her on her trip, and John had been hard pressed to say no to the woman he had literally bumped into on their first day of his semester at Oxford. She’d taken some getting used to, but John hadn’t been given much option as she had seemingly hunted him down between classes for what she deemed as intellectual conversation. 

The penthouse she had booked was modern and lavish, the full length windows giving views across Central Park and the Hudson all the way to New Jersey. He’d taken to starting his morning with yoga as he admired the view, before heading out on a run whilst the Lady got herself ready for the day. 

“John,” Eos faded into existence alongside him as he shifted from Cat to Cobra, “I have a question.”

As he rolled his neck, he looked to the ai, “I’m always happy to answer your questions, you know that Eos.”

It wasn’t often she came to him with questions any more, she had grown so much over the years and preferred to do her own research. Shifting societal norms occasionally threw her, but she knew that Mom or Scott were better suited to those kinds of answers. 

“Your mother has requested that I ensure you do not see a particular piece of media, however, she did not clarify if I should make you aware of its existence or not.”

Gathering his legs under him, John frowned at the ai, “Surely you’re better asking Mom that?”

“That would be the problem, I cannot.”

If the blue sorrow of her lights hadn’t set alarm bells ringing, her words absolutely did. 

“What do you mean?” He glanced to the door of Penelope’s room, “Why can’t you ask Mom?”

“The air base was attacked yesterday morning. I have been unable to contact your mother since.”

John threw himself up, grabbing his comm as he raced to his room on the opposite side of the suite. The door slammed with a little more force than necessary as he grabbed for his datapad. 

“Please do not try and search for information, I promised her I would protect you from it.”

“Eos, what happened?” He demanded, “Who else knows about this? Scott? Dad?”

It couldn’t be good, if Mom hadn’t been in touch, he knew it couldn’t be good. She always found a way to tell them she was safe; like when the car broke down in the dead spot between the farm and the City, or when her flight had been delayed and her phone had no battery. 

Or like when the avalanche hit with her and Scott in the chalet, and Alan out on the slopes with their grandparents. 

“Lucy requested that I ensure Val received a copy of the events that occurred. She assured me she would contact your father.”

John swallowed, “And has she?”

“I am unsure.”

He didn’t care about the time difference as he pulled up his father’s contact, they’d be up soon anyway for Gordon’s swim training. Dad would know what to do, would know which of his contacts to call and what to ask them to get the answers they needed. He would do anything and everything, refusing to give up until he had Mom home, safe and well. 

Except…

“Don’t tell him.” He sank back on the bed, his mind slowing as realisation caught up to him.

Mom had already frozen him out, had very purposefully given Eos instructions in order to protect him and their family. 

John didn’t doubt that their father would do the same.

“Don’t tell your father? Why?” Eos flashed purple, “I do not understand.”

Because both his parents were fiercely protective. Because both would burn the world in order to see their family safe and well. 

John was no longer a child that needed that protection. In a matter of months he would legally be an adult citizen.

“Because I can do something.” He sighed, “I can--”

“John?” Penelope’s voice was light on the opposite side of the door, “Is everything alright?”

He froze, looking to Eos. 

Mom was missing and he wasn’t sure if his whole world was about to come crashing down around him.

Mom had sent her regards to Penelope’s father, that knowing smile on her face as she had said his name. John had thought at the time that it had meant something, the way his father had rolled his eyes with his own smirk giving them both away. 

Jumping from his bed, he pulled the door open, coming face to face with the Lady.

“How do my parents know your father?”

Blue eyes blinked up at him, “ Excuse me?”

“How did they meet? When?”

Penelope shook her head, “John, what has gotten into you?”

It was only then that he realised she was still in her sleep wear, the silken camisole thin and as pale as her skin. She never ventured out of her room before she was fully made-up, hair styled and clothes fitted just and so ready for the day. 

“Sorry,” He coughed, stepping back, “I-- I didn’t--”

“Hugh Creighton-Ward met Lucille Taylor in--”

“ Eos .” John hissed.

“Who’s that?” Penny leant around him, “Eos?”

“What?” The ai asked, “I have spoken with Hugh on occasion on your mothers behalf, I find his accent quite entertaining.”

“ You’re the woman I heard him with!” Penny accused, pushing past John into the room, “Where-- Wh--”

“Penny!” John chased after her, “She’s not-- Eos isn’t a woman.”

“I am the dawn.” The ai giggled.

John glared at her hologram, hoping she got the message as he stood between her and Penny, “Eos is an Artificial Intelligence Mom and I made, she’s… well, she’s sort of like a personal assistant for the family.”

Penny blinked at him, “An-- Artific-- why were you speaking with my father?”

John turned, equally as eager to hear the answer. 

“Lucy and Hugh play cards together on a semi-regular basis.”

John couldn’t help his scoff, “ Cards ?”

“I do believe there was gambling involved.” 

All of the tension that had been stretched out of his muscles by his yoga routine was slowly creeping back, each answer creating more questions the further the conversation went. Mom had never mentioned Hugh until John had sent his regards after finally meeting the man right at the end of his week in Oxford. She had never said much more about him, not that they had known each other well , or that they had been playing Poker together often enough for Eos to know about. 

If the pair knew each other well though, John felt he could trust the man. 

“Your father,” he looked down to Penny, “he was in the Air Force, right?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes narrowing on him, “The same as your parents.”

Of course. 

Sucking in a breath, John reached for his data-pad, “I’ll explain everything, but I think I need to speak with him.”

“John?” She followed him as he strode back to the main room of the suite, “What’s wrong?”

Pulling out a chair at the table, he gestured for her to sit, “Mom’s MIA, and I think your father can help me find her.”

Chapter Text

“I hate you!”

She didn’t flinch as Scott ran up the stairs, his bedroom door slamming with intentional force as he went. He’d been pushing the boundaries lately, staying out closer and closer to his curfew, hiding in his room where time had been previously spent with his family, hiding his phone screen when asked who he was talking with. 

Sally had assured her it was simply the teenage hormones, pushing him to act out and look cool to his peers. Jeff had sighed and admitted to a similar phase when he had been the same age, something that Sally hadn’t long stood for before cracking down on his behaviour. 

He had four younger brothers to set an example to though, even if Alan was barely old enough to understand. Lucy was sure that John wouldn’t follow his older brother’s lead, but Virgil and Gordon she was less certain about. She loved all her boys, but had seen how the younger ones had followed the older ones, how they had mimicked and echoed one another as they had all grown. Even baby Alan was doing it, sticking to his biggest brother like glue, and yelling and shouting when he didn’t get his way - just as Scott had started doing. 

So when the police cruiser had pulled up with him inside, an hour after his Friday night curfew, she had come down hard on the eldest son. 

The abandoned grain store and barn on the far side of town had been condemned for years, the owners family having long since moved to the city and forgotten about the land. It was a known haunt for teenagers, one the police regularly checked out and shut down, and one Lucy and Jeff had forbidden any of the boys from going near. 

As the Officer had explained, Scott hadn’t looked at her, scuffing his toe against the boarding of the porch with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He had been lucky it had just been a warning, his first offence on an otherwise spotless record and known about town for his enthusiasm to help others. 

Lucy hadn’t been so lenient. 

Grounded for two weeks, with an adult to take him to and from school for the same amount of time. She didn’t believe in doling out chores as extra punishment, even for all it would have taken a load off of her plate with Jeff away on business, the boys were good enough at helping without the need for her to ask. 

Jeff had been in agreement with the punishment when she had called him, quickly offering to come home early to help with the extra pick-up. She had assured him it was fine, that Val was on leave and eager to see her god-sons, she’d probably volunteer as soon as she heard the news. 

The aunt loved nothing more than talking things through with the boys in the light of day. 

She had been enjoying her morning coffee in peace the next day, all five of the boys sleeping in for once giving her time to savour the brew whilst it was still hot, when she heard Scott on the stairs. He wasn’t sneaking, that much she knew, even embarrassed and scolded her eldest didn’t hide from things that made him uncomfortable. 

What Lucy had learned was that she was better letting him come to her. So, she waited as he hauled the clothes hamper from the bathroom through the kitchen to the wash-room. She sipped her coffee as she listened to him load the machine and set off the cycle, and she looked up when he cleared his throat in the doorway. 

“I-- uh-- I didn’t-- I’m sorry about what I said last night, I didn’t mean it.”

That much she had always known, even if the comment had stung when it had been screamed down the stairs. 

Watching him, she raised an eyebrow, “Do you know why we forbade you from going to the silo?”

Scott shrugged, looking to the floor as he did, “You always said it was dangerous, that it was damaged by Tornadoes.”

“And do you think we made that up?”

“No!” He looked up quickly with wide eyes, “I-- I’ve seen how there’s sheets of metal hanging from the roof and… you were right.” He pursed his lips for a moment before mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

Lucy pushed her chair back, holding out an arm to him, grateful that he was still young enough to be eager for the hug. He was getting taller by the day, she almost had to look up to him from her seat as she pulled him into her side with an arm around his waist. Soon she didn’t doubt he would be too old for his mother’s hugs, and plenty eager to spread his wings.

“We don’t make these rules just to be annoying you know?” She told him with a squeeze of his hip.

“I know.” he whined, sighing as he tilted his head to rest against hers.

“We just want you to be safe, kiddo. We trust you to make sensible choices when you’re out on your own, and we need you to trust our reasons for the rules we give you.”

Scott’s sigh was heavy as he pulled back from her slightly, “I should never have gone, I should’da gone to the diner with Mickey and Juan instead.”

Lucy tilted her head, reaching up to brush his hair from his face, “Why didn’t you?”

She had a feeling she knew the answer. School was tumultuous at the best of times, never mind as a teenager with raging hormones, desperate to fit in with the crowd. She’d been the one shunned by the cool kids herself, and remembered how it had stung at the time. Mickey and Juan seemed like nice boys from the little Lucy had seen of them, neither ever complaining about Scott’s brothers joining in their games at the park or when they visited the farm.

“I wanted to fit in with the cool kids.” He admitted, looking down again, “Turns out they’re not so cool after all.”

Hiding her smile, not daring to let on that she was glad of the realisation, she squeezed her son’s waist, “Don’t change who you are for people you don’t like, kid, I promise it never ends well. If you’d rather go to the diner with Mickey and Juan, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Scott nodded, his lips twisting in thought, “I know that now.”

“Good.” She stretched up to kiss his cheek whilst she still could, “You’re still grounded though.”

His cheeks coloured as he nodded, “I know.” He looked across to her, his smile small and tentative, “I really am sorry for what I said. I know you and Dad are just trying to look out for me.”

“I know you are kiddo.” She shifted to stand as she heard more feet on the stairs, “And we both love you, even when you are grounded.”

He pulled away, smiling wider as he shook his head, “Sit down Mom, I’ll make breakfast.”

There wasn’t a chance for her to answer as Gordon launched himself into her arms, immediately chattering about his dreams as Scott began to pull ingredients from the fridge. 

~

It had barely been an hour when they came again. She had roused Scott from his sleep and helped him to stand as the bolt on the door had slid back. There had been an argument on her lips as he had shuffled just in front of her, only to fall away as three guards stepped into the cell. 

“We take the boy.” 

Lucy didn’t look to him, but she felt him shift, knew that every muscle in his body had tensed in preparation of what they both knew came next. The blood in his hair had barely dried as his black-eye had swollen shut, he’d barely had time to recover from his flight before they’d attacked him the first time. She wasn’t sure how he’d cope again so soon. 

“He knows nothing.” She bit, stepping in front of Scott, ignoring how his glare turned on her, “He can’t tell you about Artemis.”

Two of the guards looked to each other, doubt clear on their faces. The third held no such qualms as he stepped toe to toe with her.

“We take the boy.” He repeated, “Understand?” 

They weren’t after answers, not then.

But she still had to try. 

“You leave him.”

Jeff would have something to say for the way she had done nothing but antagonise since they had gotten there, but she had to try and take the heat from Scott somehow. If it weren’t for her and the Artificial Intelligence she had once tried to develop, they never would have been there. 

If she hadn’t taken the job, Scott would never have been there. 

She knew the guard would go for her, knew Scott would retaliate and that the other pair of guards would grab him. She knew she’d have one chance to react, to draw all of their attention on her instead of Scott. 

A kick square to the guard’s groin had him doubling forward, dropping her and giving her a chance to duck around him. She paused behind him, giving a hard shove to send him forward to the floor as the other two guards dropped Scott and dove for her. 

It was clear neither expected her fight as they grabbed at her clothes, both of them surprised by the force of her kicks and punches as she ducked and dodged around them. The room was small, keeping both of them close and little space for her to get away, but it was enough for her to work with. She didn’t dare run, there would be more guards inevitably outside the cell, and nowhere for her to go. 

All she wanted was their attention off of her boy. 

As she landed a punch square in one guard’s gut, a hand in her hair pulled her back, her eye catching Scott held in the corner by his scalp, a knife to his throat. 

She scrabbled against the arm around her neck as it lifted her from the floor, the sensation uncomfortable against her airway. 

One guard yelled at the one holding Scott, demanding they move she guessed from the way they immediately pulled him from the cell. The one holding her didn’t let go, waiting for the last guard she had punched to recover himself first. 

Leveling her breath, she stared him down as he stepped up to her and spat in her face. 

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, gasping to catch her breath as the door slammed shut. 

She had known they would take him regardless. They were the ones with the power, the ones that could do what they pleased whenever it pleased them. They would come and take what they wanted, no matter how hard either of them fought. 

It didn’t matter what she did, they were always going to try and hurt him, to hurt her. 

Shuffling over to the corner, she curled around herself, ignoring how her back protested at the movement. She needed to think of another way to protect Scott, to find something to get him out of there alive. They had already found exactly how they could taunt him, and she knew they would use it against them both.

For that, she knew Scott would blame himself, even if Lucy told him she wouldn’t have fared better in the same situation. Her son was as protective as his father, perhaps worse some of the time, especially when Lucy had been pregnant. She partially blamed her post-natal-depression after her third pregnancy, when Scott had been determined to be with her at every moment of the day and tried his very hardest to make her smile. Even at five, he had known things hadn’t been quite right and, despite Jeff and her reassurances, he’d taken it upon himself to try and fix the problem. 

It was what he had tried to do on the base, when she hadn’t responded to his calls. She knew his intention had been to save her, to get them both out of there and to safety. It was the least she would have expected of him if she had ever considered the scenario. 

They had both been overpowered though, and neither of their plans had worked out. She had been confident that their family could have survived without her, if only Scott had gotten out safely. Without them both though?

She wondered if Val would have told Jeff straight away, or if her husband was still living blissfully unaware of what had happened that day. Part of her hoped he didn’t know, hoped that he could go one more day without having his heart ripped out and stamped on.

Jeff loved all of their boys equally, they both did, but Scott was his mini-me, his second in command, his right-hand man when Lucy wasn’t available. She dreaded to think what it would do to him when he found out he had lost both in one fell swoop. 

Except she wouldn’t let that happen. 

That was why she had gone back on her word and fought. 

Because she needed to get Scott out. He was the one that needed to survive and go back to their family, to hug his little brothers and tell them stories of adventures that wouldn’t leave them with nightmares. For all she longed to hug each of them, for all she wished her husband could hold her and tell her it was okay, she knew if it came to it, Scott had to be the one to survive. 

She stood as the door opened, swallowing hard when she realised Scott wasn’t with the pair of guards that stepped in. 

One of them snapped at her in Bereznian, pointing at the door as he did. Move , she guessed, the word gradually becoming familiar. 

She did as instructed, keeping her head down as she passed him and moved towards the second guard. 

Each grabbed an arm before she could step across the threshold, their grip bruising against her biceps as they half marched, half dragged her along the hallway. She counted the doors again, surprised that they turned left instead of right, but unsure if she was grateful. 

She bit her tongue as they entered another room, its walls damp but bare. On the floor, Scott was knelt over a drum of water, his hands bound at his back. His hair was wet, still dripping down into his eyes, as was the top of his flight suit. The water on the floor around him and the heaving of his chest told her all she needed to know.

“ Don’t .” Was all he said as he met her eye, his implication clear from the set of his jaw. 

The soldier stood over him snapped something, swinging his foot square into Scott’s stomach as punishment for the single word. 

“I did warn you Captain.” Duval stepped out from behind the door as it closed, the pair of guards stopping her beneath the hook and chain that dangled from the ceiling. 

She let them bind her hands in front of her, suddenly glad that she had missed lunch for everything that had happened as they lifted her from the floor to hang her from the hook. 

Duval waved at the pair, ordering something in his native tongue. A moment later the chain above her dropped, sending her crashing to the floor, landing awkwardly on her ankle. 

Around her, all three guards laughed. 

Duval snapped something more, silencing the laughter as she was hoisted back to her feet, allowed to stand firmly in the centre of the room. She shifted her weight from the ankle she had landed on, careful to not lose her balance as Duval watched her. 

“You are Mrs Tracy, are you not?” He asked after a moment. 

“I am Sergeant Taylor of the USAF.” She answered, “Serial number, Six five, zero seven eight, four five four.”

“Yes, yes,” Duval waved a hand at her, stepping away from the wall and towards Scott, “Ms Taylor is what you go by now. But, you are also Mrs Tracy, yes? The mother of Captain Tracy, but also, the creator of the Artemis project.”

She refused to acknowledge him.

“Ms Taylor, if you do not tell us, I will drown your son in this bucket.”

The hard ice in Scott’s eyes told her to hold her tongue. 

“Okay.” Duval shrugged, “We will do this your way.” 

Scott’s head was shoved into the bucket without ceremony, initially without reaction from him. Lucy held her own breath as she watched, waiting for a signal, for something, anything that would let him come back up for air. 

When his whole body jerked, the guard simply held him under more firmly. 

It wasn’t long before he was reacting on instinct as he fought for air, his whole body writhing under the hold of two of the guards as they held his head down. 

She couldn’t watch, but she couldn’t say anything. 

Turning her head away was pointless, she could still hear the splashing, the weakening fight of a body put under too much strain in a single day. It was Duval that took the option from her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look in the direction of her son. 

“I’m a Tracy.” She told him, her voice coming out as a whisper as Scott’s hands searched for something to grab onto.

“What was that?”

“I am a Tracy.” She repeated, louder, as Scott’s hands stopped their search. 

He was immediately pulled up and dropped to the floor, his lips blue as he coughed and spluttered, trying to gasp out for a single good breath. 

Duval smiled to her, “See, not so hard now.” 

She turned her glare on him, “Artemis failed, the project was dropped.”

It was common knowledge that the up and coming project had gotten dropped, even if most never knew the redacted details of exactly why. Duval didn’t need those details, she didn’t need to pass on anything more. 

He nodded slowly, “When you were Ms Taylor, yes. Now though, we know you came back as Mrs Tracy, it was for the same project, no?”

“I told you--” Scott rasped from the floor. 

The same soldier as before kicked him again, shouting the same word at him. 

“Artemis failed.” She repeated, forcing herself to not look at him, to watch Duval instead. 

A snap of the man’s fingers and Scott was hoisted up, his body limp even as his face twisted in subtle dread that anyone else would have missed. 

“No!” She yelled, shifting her weight, pulling herself up by her bonds and swinging to kick out with both feet at Duval. 

The Major stumbled as the guards forgot about Scott, two of them grabbing at her as another pulled the chains higher. She tried to swing out again, using the pair that had grabbed at her as leverage to get a second solid kick in against Duval’s stomach. 

Orders were thrown across the room in Bereznian, the third guard grabbing Scott and dragging him away. That he didn’t fight or protest told Lucy that she’d done the right thing, he wouldn’t have coped if he’d have been kept there. 

Both guards released her as the door slammed shut and Duval recovered himself. Her feet were back off the floor, her wrists and arms protesting loudly at having to hold her weight. 

She let the anger flow through her for what they had done to her boy, for what they had threatened to do to him for her actions. As Duval grabbed her face again, she sucked in a breath and braced for what came next. 

***

“Mom!”

“I’m good.” 

It was a blatant lie, but she refused to let the guards hear anything else as they bolted the door behind her. Rolling onto her back, she winced as cuts and bruises pulled underneath her clothes. She took a moment, catching her breath and feeling each injury for what it was. 

“I thought you said we shouldn't fight.” Scott uttered as she finally sat up, “Let them get bored.”

“That was before.” She murmured, eyeing the door, listening to the march of footsteps past it. 

Scott followed her gaze, listening as the steps faded, watching her as she moved to stretch out her muscles. 

“Before what ?” He hissed.

She looked back to him, not wanting to answer because she knew what it would sound like. 

“Before I fucked up,” He nodded, “right?”

“No.” She shook her head, turning to face him, reaching out for his arms, “Scott don’t .”

Because she had broken just as easily, she had given them an answer so they would spare him. 

“Yes,” She admitted, “things changed when they found out, but don’t you for a second think that I blame you, alright?”

He looked past her to the door, “Let me protect you.”

“You can’t protect me, not in here.”

His eye that wasn’t swollen shut snapped back to her, “You think you can protect me?”

“I have to try.”

“You can’t!” He snapped, keeping his voice low, both of them having already learned the lesson. 

She squeezed his arms, “I need you to survive.”

He grasped her arms in return, his hold gentle, no doubt aware of her aches, “And I need you to survive, we’re both getting out of here Mom. There isn’t another option.”

She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, even when she wanted him to be right. It wasn’t the time though, not when they were both exhausted and aching, not when his flight suit was still damp, and the marks on her wrists were still red and raw. 

“Mom.” Scott’s voice was softer as he tilted his head toward her, lightly bumping his forehead to hers, “ Please , don’t sacrifice yourself for me.”

Squeezing his arms gently again, she nodded slowly, “Okay.” 

If it came to it, she knew what lengths she would go to. 

“We don’t sacrifice ourselves.” She swallowed, “Okay? We do what we have to, to survive.” 

“We’ll get out of here.” Scott nodded in return, “Both of us.”

She hoped he was right.

Chapter Text

“All I’m saying is Lucy does this on her own, regularly.” Val shook her head as she glanced over the list on her phone, “How hard can it be?”

Jeff raised an eyebrow as he lifted Virgil from his car seat and into the shopping cart. Scott was jumping between the lines of the next parking space over, whilst John resolutely held onto his Aunt’s hand. They were shopping for his wife’s birthday and the boys had insisted they join in, the older two both eager to pick something out for their mother. 

So, instead of babysitting at home, Val had tagged along. 

Val had never taken three children under seven to the shops before. 

It had only taken them half an hour to misplace Scott, the oldest most prone for getting distracted by something fun or for having a burst of energy and setting off racing around the store. Val had panicked at first, though she’d never admit it, whilst Jeff had simply pulled Virgil from the cart and set the baby off giggling. 

Sure enough, Scott had soon reappeared, his face lighting up at the sight of his youngest brother’s laughter. 

“How’d--”

“I’ve done this before.” Jeff smiled, shaking his head before she could ask, “Lucy has super powers, these two are psychically linked.”

Scott looked up with wide eyes, as Jeff lifted him into the main body of the cart, “We have super powers?”

Jeff had laughed as he had ruffled his son’s hair, turning to ask John his opinion, only to pale at the realisation his red headed son was missing. 

“Okay,” Val had started, “so what’s your trick for finding him?”

“Um.” He had gaped, “I don’t--”

Val had laughed, almost hysterical as she ran a hand through her cropped hair. Jeff couldn’t help but grin as she started uttering to herself at what to tell Lucy.  

“We don’t have to tell Lucy.”

Val blanched at him, “We-- Jeff! You can’t just not tell her!”

“Mom will find out.” Scott nodded sagely, “She always does.”

Jeff had pursed his lips at that, knowing his eldest had a point. 

It was John though, he never wandered off.

“Okay, I’ll stay here, you check the aisles.” He instructed Val, “If you see an assistant--”

“I’ll ask.” Val nodded.

She had returned ten minutes later with John in one arm, and a pile of books under the other. 

“I wanted to get Momma a book.” John had shrugged when asked, “I couldn’t pick one.”

“I’m waiting until they’re teenagers before I take them shopping again.” Val had told him as she deposited the red-head alongside his older brother in the cart, “How does Lucy do it?”

Jeff laughed as he slung an arm across her shoulders, “I told you Val, superpowers.”

~

He kept the swing on the porch maintained just for Lucy, though he knew all the boys liked to huddle up on it throughout the year even when she wasn’t home. All spring he’d promised her that he would sand it down ready for a fresh coat of paint for her to detail and decorate however she so wished to, but as always, the year had gotten away from them. 

She’d offered the job to Virgil before she and Scott had left and told him he could send her a photo for her birthday. 

With the three week deadline, Jeff had finally found the time to get around to the job. 

His mother had taken Gordon and Alan into the City, both having sprouted up over the early half of the summer and each in desperate need of new clothes. It was usually a task Lucy took on at the far end of the holidays, always tying in present shopping for Virgil as part of the day out. His mother had promised a separate trip for that though, one that she had warned Jeff he would be dragged on whether he liked it or not. 

Virgil himself had headed out uncharacteristically early with Brad, both eager to take on one of the hiking trails further north before the area got too busy with summer crowds.

It had been a long time since Jeff had been truly alone on the farm. 

Naturally, he hadn’t been alone for long. 

The cloud of dust was obvious as a car turned off of the main road and onto the track that was their driveway. Years of watching the track and the cars that drove down it told him the car headed for him wasn’t a local in a truck. No, the car was smaller, designed for smooth roads and tight turns, not the rocks it had to trundle over to get to him. 

It was why his heart kicked up a notch long before the little red sports car pulled up alongside the van they used for family days out.

“Val.” He greeted, leaning on the railing as she slipped out of the car, “I thought you were shipping out for--”

“I took emergency leave.”

That in itself was unprecedented, during war time nobody got emergency leave. Not without a reason.

Jeff moved around the railing to meet her on the steps, catching her arm before she could head straight into the house. 

“How?”

Her face gave her away, her mouth pressed in a thin line as she looked towards the house, her eyes narrowed. He could see the clench of her jaw as she looked to him, “Because nobody else wanted to come and tell you what I’m about to.”

Jeff sucked in a breath, “Nobody else is home.” He swallowed, reaching for the screen door, “Come inside.”

“Have you heard from them?” She asked as they stepped into the cool of the lounge. 

He didn’t need to ask who.

“Not since Sunday.” He told her as his heart tripped in his chest, “What’s happened?”

She pulled her datapad from her bag, her face still grim as she followed him to the office, “Eos sent me a recording.”

His stomach twisted at the unsaid. Lucy hadn’t been in contact, and she had sworn to contact him if anything went wrong. 

If Eos had been in contact with Val, but Lucy hadn’t…

He wasn’t sure he was ready to think of what that could possibly mean. 

She was still playing on her datapad as he sunk into the desk chair, her frown deepening the longer she focussed on it.

“Show me the recording Val.” He demanded, not interested in being kept waiting.

“I’m trying to Jeff.” She sniped back, “Eos, are you blocking me?”

The ai appeared above Jeff’s own datapad, “It was Lucy’s last request of me that her family is protected from such information.”

Jeff sat straighter in his seat, “Last request? What do you mean?”

The ai didn’t answer for a long moment, her lights flashing a soft amber that demonstrated hesitation.

“Eos,” He begged, her previous words tightening his chest, “please, what did she say to you?”

She flashed a soft lilac before shifting to show an audio only line, “Promise me, Jeff and the boys never see this footage. Not from you, or the media, or wherever else. They-- they don’t need to see what happened here, but I need Val to know the danger. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lucy.”

“Thank you, Eos, for everything.”

Sinking back in his seat, Jeff gaped at the recording. 

It couldn’t mean what he thought, Lucy was meant to be safe out there, she hadn’t been the one that any of them had been worried about.

“What happened after that?” He demanded, looking to Val on the opposite side of the desk. 

“She was grabbed.” Val answered softly, “Scott landed when she didn’t respond and went after her. They took them both.” 

Both . 

Lucy and Scott. 

His wife and his eldest. 

He wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick. 

Both of them looked up as Eos shifted back to her preferred form, “Hugh wishes to speak with you both, Cat Four.”

Val nodded in approval as Jeff tried to find the words. 

“Not a good time Hugh.” She answered for Jeff when Hugh’s hologram filled the space above the desk. 

“Penny and John told me about Lucy.” 

Jeff looked up to him, swallowing against the churning in his stomach, “How--”

John didn’t need to know, none of the others needed to. They couldn’t. Not until he had answers, until he had something definite to give them one way or another. 

“Eos, I imagine.” Hugh sighed, “However, I did some digging, and I can’t say I like what I’ve found.”

Val nodded slowly, drawing Jeff’s attention to her, “If you found out that they had her resurrecting Artemis, you’d be right.”

Jeff stood from his seat, “ Artemis ?” 

Lucy had never said anything about the old project when they’d been discussing her deployment. He was sure she would have said if that had been Rodgers’ reason for pulling her back into the Force. 

“There was a good reason we benched that project.” Hugh bit out, his voice gaining an edge that Jeff knew meant nothing good.

“What reason?” John asked, stepping into the room, “What was wrong with Artemis?”

Jeff blanched as he turned to his son, “What are you doing here?”

John should have been in New York still, enjoying the final weeks of his holiday before he returned to Harvard for his third year of study. He didn’t need to be there, hearing of the news first hand, taking on the responsibility of an adult. 

“Eos told me this morning.” John answered, his eyes narrowing on Hugh, “I got a flight straight over.”

“After I told you not to go digging.” Hugh looked to Jeff, an apology obvious in his features. 

“What is Artemis really ?” John asked, looking between the three of them, “It’s more than what we’ve been told, isn’t it?”

Jeff loved his boys, loved how quick and smart they were. Not much got past them, even when they had been younger and Jeff had been determined to pull the wool over their eyes, one or more of them had always managed to call him out. 

In that moment though he hated the perception, hated that John could put it all together so quickly and see where the holes were in the information he had. 

“Artemis wasn’t everything it seemed,” Val answered slowly, her eyes darting from Jeff to his son as she spoke, “it was the reason your mother stepped out of working on Artificial Intelligence.”

John frowned, “Artemis doesn’t--”

“It did, originally.” Jeff cut him off, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head. 

They thought they’d been rid of the project, that after the reports had been sealed it would be done, finished, never to see the light of day again.

“An artificial co-pilot?”

“We trialled it on a handful of planes during the Global Conflict,” Hugh explained, “a number of them were hacked and the intelligence turned against their pilots. All but one were killed.”

“That’s why it was Rodgers asking.” Val cursed softly, sinking back against the bookshelf with a heavy sigh, “He’d be the only one able to convince her about bringing the program back.”

Jeff looked to her, “Did they?”

“Yes,” John answered, pursing his lips, “Scott told me about it when he found out Mom was going with him.”

Val nodded, closing her eyes as she rubbed her chin, “Scott was flying an Artemis plane when the attack happened.”

John visibly paled as he reached out to the nearest corner of the desk, “Where’s Scott now?”

Jeff pursed his lips, watching his second son for a long moment as he tried to find the words to explain. It wasn’t until John met his look, horror draining his face, that he knew he had to say it. 

“According to Eos, taken with Lucy.”

John shook his head, looking between the three adults, “No, they can’t both be--”

“I spoke with Scott’s team last night,” Val whispered softly, almost like she didn’t want to say it herself, “they confirmed Scott landed after he couldn’t get ahold of Lucy, the footage we’ve seen so far from the jets shows two hostages being taken. Eos pretty much confirmed it was them from the recording she has from Lucy’s watch.”

John straightened, “So track her watch. That’ll give you a location and you can--”

“Lucy’s watch has been damaged.” Eos interrupted him, her voice soft like Val’s had been, “I am unable to gain a signal with a current location.”

Jeff felt his son’s eyes on him, knew the desperation that he was feeling. He longed for the situation to be different, even just for one of them to be safe - though he wasn’t sure he could ever choose which of the pair. 

“Dad,” John pleaded, his voice shaky, “what do we do?”

Finally, Jeff looked back to him. He wasn’t the teenager that had tried to follow him up the mountain after an avalanche, he was taller than he had been then, less scrawny. His eyes had changed though, the aqua was harder than it had been then, more determined and less fearful of whatever his father said next. In three months he would be twenty-one, legally an adult in every sense. Jeff knew it made little difference, he couldn’t freeze him out, not when it was family involved. 

He wasn’t sure he had an answer though. 

“I’m flying out tonight to see the base.” Val cleared her throat, “With any luck I’ll find some answers.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Hugh told her, “I’ll talk to some old friends today, see what I can find out in the meantime.”

Jeff blinked, sucking in a sharp breath as he refocussed on the room, “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Val shook her head, her eyes sharp, “you’re not.”

“Val--”

“Lucy didn’t want you to see it, Jeff.” She looked down, “Besides, someone has to tell the boys.”

Sinking down into his chair, Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. He couldn’t let himself slip, not in front of John, it’d make him worry more than he was already. 

Telling the others though, he wasn’t sure he could face it, not with the uncertainty.

They would undoubtedly ask him the questions he didn’t have an answer to, beg him to do something to fix it. 

Which he would… he would do anything to see them safe and home. If it meant going back into the force, if it meant going against direct orders to do what he needed to in order to get them out of whatever hell hole they were in, if it meant a dis-honourable discharge, he would do it all. 

Val rounded the desk, sighing heavily as she reached out to squeeze his shoulder, “I’ll stay until they’re home, they’re going to need you here Jeff. Let me deal with it from the inside.”

He looked up to her as he caught her hand on his shoulder, swallowing against the heavy feeling around his throat as he blinked hard.

“We bring them both home, Val.”

Her eyes darted to Hugh’s hologram and then John, before looking back to him, her amber eyes hard as she nodded once, “There’s no other options, Jeff.”

Chapter Text

“So, you’ll take Scott, John, and Virgil to school in the van,” Jeff started as he pulled the trio’s lunch boxes from the dishwasher, “I’ll take Gordon in the truck with me to Alan’s appointment, and then drop him at pre-school and Alan at your parents.” 

Lucy reached around him for a knife, “And then I’ll meet you at the station to get the train into the City for our meeting at elven.”

He held out a spoon as she turned away, “You’ll need this for the jelly” 

“Is your Mom still okay to finish early?” She asked as she took it from him, “I can always get Dad to…”

“Your Dad has that appointment.” Jeff reminded her as he started packing three lunch boxes, frowning as he realised there was a fourth missing, “Where’s Gordo--”

“He didn’t eat most of it today,” Lucy told him, “I already swapped it out, it’s in the fridge ready to go.”

She turned to him as she wiped her hair back off of her face, leaving a streak of jelly smeared across her cheek, “Dad said he’d be done by the time they’re out of school, he can always--”

“Grandma Sally’s got it.” Jeff assured her, laughing softly as he reached to wipe the food from her face with his thumb, “Honey, it’s going to be fine.” 

Her sigh was heavy as she set down the knife, “It’s not though, is it Jeff? Our boys are having PB and J sandwiches for the third time this week because I forgot to--”

He kissed her quickly before she could finish the thought, pressing his finger to her lips before she could argue further. 

“You didn’t forget to go shopping, you got caught up in the designs for the business and lost track of time. We offered Scott and John to take money for the cafeteria instead and they both said no.” He raised an eyebrow, daring her to find a further argument before adding, “Besides, PB and J is a balanced American staple, and they’re growing boys, we’re not going to scar them for life.” 

He knew it wasn’t the boys’ food that she was truly bothered about, there’d been plenty of times where meals had been cobbled together from what was in the house when there hadn’t been the time or finances for a full grocery shop. The business was about to turn three though, and with it came more demands for attention. Lucy had the designs, had done the calculations and knew where they needed to be headed, all they needed was the investors. 

That Houseman Enterprises had wanted to meet with them at such short notice had sent her into a tailspin. She’d not stopped talking about if’s and but’s since he had told her of the meeting, the first one that relied solely on the investors liking her designs. 

“Have any of your designs ever failed us?” He asked, wrapping the loaf of bread back up and putting it away.

“Yes.” She sighed as she cut the sandwiches, “You know they have, Jeff.”

“No.” He wrapped an arm around her, kissing her hair, “Not for the business they haven’t.”

They didn’t talk of what had gone wrong in the Air Force. 

Leaning into him, she shook her head, “This could be the turning point for us, for the business.” 

“It will be.” He assured her, confident that between them they’d have the CEO of Houseman Enterprises in the palm of their hands, “Maybe not in time for this Christmas, but next year, I can feel it Honey.” 

She laughed as he scooped her up, spinning her to sit her up on a clear section of the kitchen table. 

“And then,” He grinned up at her, holding her waist, “I’ll pay for someone to go to the store for groceries every week for us, and I’ll buy you a baby grand piano.” 

Her arms draped over his shoulders, her smile soft as she fought a yawn. He leant in closer, kissing away some of the jelly he’d missed earlier. 

“We’d need a house big enough for a baby grand.”

He kissed her again with another grin, “I’ll buy us one, with enough rooms for all the boys.”

She sighed, resting her chin on his shoulder, “Just one more year.”

“I love you.” He murmured, pulling back just so he could look at her, “And you’re going to do great tomorrow.”

In the end she did better than great. She had been smooth and quick with answers to all of the questions, her smile had been confident as she had held her own against every detail that Houseman had picked apart. It was the same knowing smile that had drawn Jeff’s attention to her all those years before, the one that he’d come to learn said that she knew something he didn’t. 

She’d screamed when the email had come through confirming the investment would go ahead, Jeff had scooped her up and spun her around, both of them laughing as they had tripped over the chair in the tiny office of their premises. 

Neither of them had felt too guilty when they’d been late picking the boys up from their grandparents that day. 

~

Scott hadn’t known what time of day it was for a long time, the walls of the cell only held a single bulb in the ceiling, giving him no natural daylight to work off of. The coming and going had thrown him off long ago, as had the time lost to unconsciousness when his mind had given up trying to process the torture. Water was irregular, and the food was sparse, barely enough to keep each of them alive, though he knew that was the whole point. 

Whilst he and Mom had agreed they shouldn’t sacrifice themselves for one another, it hadn’t stopped them both from fighting when the need came for it. When they had almost drowned him, time and again, Mom had fought. When they had hurt her to the point of collapse, he had fought. 

Neither of them had ever given them the answers about Artemis, and eventually they had stopped asking. Eventually, they had just hurt them because they could. 

The first time they had thrown his mother back into the cell naked and bleeding, Scott hadn’t known what to do. She had flinched when he had reached out to her and kicked blindly out of instinct. 

“Just--” her voice had barely been audible as she lay face down on the stone, “Just give me a minute, please?”

He had sunk back into the furthest corner of the cell, half turning away to give her the space he knew she needed, and tried not to listen as she had cried. 

They had still been there when the guards had come, clearly anticipating Scott’s anger as five of them pushed their way in. He had fought, fueled by rage at what they had done, and what he knew they would continue to do, and once more they had beaten him. 

When he had eventually been returned to the cell, Mom had been dressed and acting like nothing had happened.

The next time they had thrown her back naked, her clothes strewn across the cell like an afterthought, he hadn’t approached. Once the door was bolted and footsteps gone, he had murmured a simple assurance he was there and had waited. 

After two long minutes, she had dragged herself across the floor to sit at his side and take his hand. She had forced him to promise that he wouldn’t rise to it when they came, that he wouldn’t show them his anger. 

He had held her, and he had promised. 

It hadn’t stopped them from doing it time and again, no matter how quietly he went with them each time it happened. He had let the anger simmer under the surface, kept it at bay knowing that they would only use any reaction of his as an excuse to hurt his mother more. 

On the days when she could barely stand, he had channeled the anger and he had fought. It didn’t matter which of them they’d come for, he had always needed to at least try and draw their attention away from her. He wasn’t sure if it worked, if it meant on those days they hurt her less, Mom never let on either way. 

His head snapped up as the bolt shifted on the door, it had been a long time since they had bothered standing each time it had opened. They’d learned it was better to make themselves look small, to not acknowledge the guards unless they were spoken to directly. 

They threw her in as they always did, and he was grateful to see she was clothed, if the scraps of fabric remaining from the outfit she had been wearing that morning still counted as such. He knew before he approached her that she wouldn’t flinch away as he helped her into a more comfortable position. 

“Watch my back.” She whispered as she shifted, wincing as Scott’s hand brushed over the material of her top.

He swallowed as his hand came away bloody. He had hoped the smear across her cheek was the worst of it, that he’d be able to wipe the blood away and take the reminder of what had happened with it. Judging from the amount of blood seeping through the material, he knew the lashes would likely scar. 

She rested her head on his shoulder as he used his thumb to wipe at her cheek, there was a cut along the bone, thick and jagged. Absently, he wondered if it would scar too, if it would be another reminder of that place when she finally got home.

“You’re so like your dad.” She murmured, her smile small as it always was when they whispered about their family. 

She’d said it the first time when his beard had grown in, the first time it had ever had the opportunity to grow past a five-o’clock shadow. He’d laughed softly when he had told him how it was growing in red, a couple of shades darker than her own hair. He hadn’t believed her until he’d seen his own reflection in a bucket of water. 

“He’ll be looking for us.” He whispered back when he had been confident there weren’t any guards lingering outside the door to hear.

“He’ll be tearing the world apart.” She agreed just as softly, “He’ll find us.” 

As the bolt drew back, he just hoped they could survive until then. 

***

Jeff had tried. 

He had tried but it had always been Lucy who had decorated the house with the boys and baked cakes and cookies until the house smelled of Christmas. 

None of the boys had held much of their usual enthusiasm though, and he hadn’t been able to blame them. Everything had felt obligatory, from the oversized dinner, to the stockings that had hung on the mantle. Virgil had half heartedly managed a few carols at the piano, though had later confessed to his father that he had felt he had to as part of the tradition, even when his heart hadn’t been in it. 

They had shared presents throughout the morning, resolutely ignoring the ones left at the back of the tree, the ones that had been wrapped with hope and prayers that something would change. His mother and Val had joined them for dinner, only partly filling in the spaces left at the table that none of them had been able to ignore. 

Between them, they had tried to get the boys to play the board games as they always did on Christmas afternoon. John and Virgil had played along, forcing tired smiles and tight laughter as they played. Gordon had ignored them, sitting on his console in the corner, his headphones playing loud enough to deafen himself. Alan had been the one to snap and yell that they were all betraying her, that it was wrong of them to try and carry on as normal. 

Jeff couldn’t say he blamed the teen. 

He had gone after him, had held onto him as he had cried for his family. Neither of them had said anything as his brothers had joined them, each wrapping themselves around the person before until they were all huddled on the bed. 

It was only after he’d sent them all to bed that night, once he’d shut the door to the office and poured himself a large measure of scotch, that he let his own tears break free. 

It had been a long time since he had needed to ask Eos to play the soft piano recordings. The ai had learned months before that it was those nights that he would ask for Lucy’s music to play gently through the speakers, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb the boys. 

Val said nothing as she joined him, sitting forward on the leather sofa that lined the far wall of the office as she sipped her own glass of amber liquid. 

“It’s been five months, Val.”

Five months and nothing to go on. According to her the base had been leveled, not a single building left standing by the enemy jets after the dog-fight that had occurred. She had returned to the farm with a report of the bodies that had been pulled from the wreckages, of the survivors that were in intensive care and not expected to make it, and those that they expected would. All of them that could, had spoken of Lucy, of how she had led the fight as the Majors on the base had panicked. Val had told him how she and Scott had led on the ground and in the sky, and how they had saved the lives of half of the base. 

More importantly than that, Val had had a sketch book. 

Lucy had always loved sketching the planes when they had lived on base, and Jeff had always admired how she managed to capture the power and speed behind each one. It was the same kind of drawings he had expected as he had flipped through the book, but that hadn’t stopped the disappointment when there hadn’t been any of her other favourite subjects within its pages.

It had been a punch to the gut when the post had arrived the same day with a manilla envelope bearing a French postmark.

Scott’s smile was wide on the paper, the pencil sketch capturing his laughter so well that Jeff could almost hear it. The lines of the cockpit he was sitting in were familiar, as was the call-sign marking the helmet on his head. 

He’d kept the sketch folded up in his wallet for months, right up until it had fallen out when he had pulled his card out to pay for the Christmas groceries. After that he had deemed it too risky, instead propping it up against another family photo on his desk. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jeff.” She sighed, looking across the room to him, “We can’t get across the border to find any more answers.” 

“They’re not taking hostages though.” He stated, “Hugh said the only prisoners were Bereznian citizens that refused to fight.”

Val nodded, “I know, and they’re the only ones that the Bereznian government are admitting to.”

“But we know they’re lying!” 

It was an old argument that they’d hashed out plenty of times over the months, his frustration at Colonels and Generals far above Val’s paygrade getting the better of him. The story of the attack had made national news, speculation at the reason behind it running rife through the media. 

Every old friend that Jeff had spoken to had known though, each one of them plenty aware of the names missing on the list of bodies found. They had each promised to keep him in the loop, to do something if the opportunity arose. 

Five months later he hadn’t heard back from a single one of them. 

“Can’t we do something with that?” He pleaded, “Val, we’re-- we’re running out of time.”

He didn’t dare admit that they could have already been too late, that maybe there wasn’t anyone left to save. 

“I know Jeff,” She sighed, “I swear I do. If I thought we could get into the country and stand a chance of finding them, I’d be all over it. We have no idea though of where they could be, or if they’re still--”

“Eos, do you think they’re alive?” He cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of her sentence. 

The ai flashed up in orange, clearly taken by surprise at his question, “I do not have enough data on Bereznian war prisons to calculate likely probabilities.”

Jeff held Val’s stare as he asked, “Based on the data you do have?”

“The probability of survival is around thirty percent.” She paused, “However, this does not consider a fact that I believe Lucy would typically remind us of at this point.”

Val raised an eyebrow, breaking her gaze away from Jeff’s as she looked to the ai, “What’s that, Eos?”

“The fact that they are Tracys, you make your own rules.”

Jeff grit his teeth, sinking back in his chair as he closed his eyes against a burn that had nothing to do with the scotch in his glass. 

“There’s whispers,” Val murmured softly, “chatter that there’s more and more civilians rebelling against the forces, perhaps, in a few months we’ll find a way in. Just not yet, Jeff.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, looking back to the sketch on his desk. 

“I need them home, Val.” He whispered, “I can’t do another Christmas like this.”

Chapter Text

“Merci.” 

“De rien!”

Lucy smiled at the baker as they handed over the bag of goodies to John, the five year old grinning as he reached into the bag for a Pain Aux Raisin. They’d left Jeff and Virgil back at the holiday cottage and taken the short stroll up to the village in search of breakfast items and a baguette to take with them down to the beach. It was only their fourth day in the country and John had already picked up common phrases as they had walked through the airport and then the market. 

He’d been delighted to hear Lucy speak so fluently to their host when they had finally arrived at the little cottage on the beach. Immediately he had started echoing her, testing each of the foreign words on his tongue as eagerly as Scott had been to taste the freshly baked bread at the airport. 

“Why does John speak French?” Scott asked as they stepped out onto the street and he took her hand, “I had lessons at school and he knows more than me.”

“I don’t know, honey.” She told him as they walked down the hill, “He just has an ear for it.”

She didn’t need to look down to see the face he pulled at her words. Sometimes she forgot he was still quite so young, he didn’t understand all the sayings that other adults would. 

“What does that mean?”

“Well,” She paused as they waited to cross the road, plucking the bag from John as he reached in for a second pastry, “some people just have to listen to something to understand it. Other people need to work on it a bit more.”

Scott looked around her to his younger brother, “You understand what they’re saying?”

John frowned at his big brother, reaching for the bag in his mother’s arms, “ No .”

“Not until we get home John.” She told him, reaching for his hand as they crossed.

“But--” Scott chased after them, “Mom said you can just--”

She shook her head with a smile, “Not quite like that, Scott.” She looked down to them both, “John just learns differently to you.” 

Not quicker, not more clever, just different. 

She had no doubts that both of the boys would be intellectual as they got older, but it was clear that John absorbed anything put in front of him like a sponge. Jeff had mentioned enrolling him in the extra-curricular multi-language lessons at school when they had seen just how well he had taken to the French language. Lucy had been wary, knowing the holiday had eaten up most of their savings, and not wanting to push him in a direction she wasn’t certain he would enjoy. 

When he had walked up to the baker and asked for two Pain Aux Raisins in almost perfect dialect, she had quickly changed her mind. 

“I want to be better at French.” Scott had huffed, “Can you help, Mom, please?”

“Well,” She started as they turned down the street to the cottage, “How do you say please in French?”

“S'il vous plaît!” Scott grinned, “I know that one!” 

“Très bien.” She smiled back, letting go of John’s hand to reach and ruffle Scott’s hair.

“Very good!” Scott exclaimed, “I know that one too!”

John grinned, racing ahead towards the cottage, more interested in getting home for his pastry than he was in the French lesson.

“And I can count to ten!” Scott told her, “Une, deux--”

“Quelle belle matinée!” Jeff called from the gate of the cottage, Virgil in one arm and John in the other. 

Scott frowned at his father, thinking through the words for a moment, “Well, belle means pretty, right?”

“Sure does.” she nodded, “And matinée?”

“Is it morning?” 

“Yeah,” She grinned, swinging his arm, “nice job!”

“What about quelle ?” The word was heavy on his tongue, the letters mixing themselves up.

“Quelle,” She corrected gently, “it means what .”

“What pretty morning?” Scott shook his head, “That makes no sense!”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she leant over the gate to kiss her husband, passing the bag of goodies across to John as Scott pulled at the latch. 

“Well we would say what a beautiful morning .” She explained, “But the French don’t make sentences the same way we do.”

“Is that why their English is funny too?” He frowned, “Like the man that spoke to me at the airport?”

Jeff laughed as he ruffled his eldest son’s hair, “Oui oui, fils.” 

“Who’s fils ?”

They were still laughing when they got inside. 

~

Scott had been gone for what felt like hours, but there had never been any noise. 

It was days like that which worried her more, when she couldn’t hear what was happening, when she didn’t know if her son was still fighting to stay alive. She would close her eyes and force herself to listen, knowing sleep wouldn’t come until her boy was back next to her. Each shuffle of footsteps, the drag of furniture on the floor above her, the buzz of the electric through the single lightbulb in the cell, none of it told her anything. 

Sometimes though, there were whispers. 

Whispers in a language she had barely known when they had first been taken. 

Lucy had a skill though, one she wasn’t sure the guards had picked up on in all the time they had spoken in front of her in their native tongue. 

She only had to listen to their words so many times before she knew what they were saying. 

The common words, quiet, come, filth, war, silence, boy, sex, she had picked up on quickly, but as time had gone on she had started to fill in more of the sentences. She knew Scott had seen her listening, when they had been sat together with nothing to say and she had turned her head just and so towards the door. He had quietly asked for translations of some words, his own grasp on the language growing as gradually as her own. 

“We will lose the war . ”

It was hissed right outside the door, the guards clearly unaware that she could possibly be listening in on what they were saying. The fact was something she was unsurprised by, they’d been harsher on them both more recently, something that neither of them had done clearly angering the Major and his men. 

“One day now we will abandon the base.”

“What of the prisoners?”

“The boy we kill. The woman, Duval takes.”

She shrunk back against the far wall of the cell, her stomach churning at the words. Everything they had fought for, everything they had survived for, came down to nothing. 

There was no way for them to fight back and win. The guards had been the same few men the entire time they had been there, they knew their tricks, knew how both she and Scott fought, knew how weak they had both become. 

Duval would take her, and they would kill Scott. 

It wasn’t an ending she could let happen. 

She had to find a way.

“What are you doing?”  Was yelled in the corridor, Duval’s voice familiar after so long of being forced to listen to it. 

She knew what it meant, he rarely came for them at that point. When he did come it was usually for one thing only, and even then, he was never the one to drag her from the cell and strip her bare. 

She curled away from the door, closing her eyes as she listened, willing him to pass by even though she knew there was no other reason for him to be there.

The bolt was as loud as ever as it was pulled back, and she was given no warning as she was pulled up by her hair. Stumbling, she tried to find her feet as she was dragged from the cell, past the four familiar doors, and to the right. 

She swallowed the whimper at the implication of the turn, knowing they always made use of the tools in that room. When they turned left it was usually simply beatings they received, fists and feet hurting in their own way, but somehow so much more bearable than what they faced in the room on the right. 

Scott was already strapped to the table stripped down to his briefs, a cloth shoved in his mouth, and fresh burn marks up the entirety of his left side. Each breath was heaved, his chest moving unnaturally as his nostrils flared in desperation. His eyes were wide, unseeing as he stared upwards, his hands shaking in the restraints despite the fact nothing was touching him in that moment. 

Duval pulled her to the very foot of the table, shaking her like a ragdoll as he pointed at Scott.

“Artemis.” He stated, “Tell us everything about the original project.”

“I am Sergeant Taylor of the USAF, serial number six five, zero seven eight, four five four.” She answered, watching her son, wondering if this was how they were going to kill him.

“ No !” Duval howled, “Tell me of Artemis, or he dies.”

“Sergeant Taylor.” She swallowed as her mind scrambled for anything to give to him, “USAF.” There had to be something, just a scrap, “Six five, zero seven eight, four five four.”

He threw her back, her weight nothing for him after all that time. She collided with the wall, her head cracking against the stone as something across the room sparked and Scott screamed around the cloth in his mouth. 

She reached up to the rope hanging from the wall above her head, determined to pull herself up and do something . Duval was clearly desperate, at his wits end and determined to get the information neither of them had let slip when they had originally been asked. She didn’t doubt his threat, could see what they were doing to Scott as the tap in the corner was switched on. 

“Major, the woman.” The guard at the tap pointed as she pulled herself up.

The beast of a man turned, spotting her instantly. It was only a single step for him to reach her, for his fist to clench tight around her wrist that had been broken more times than she cared to count, and pull her away from the wall, the rope still in her hand. 

“ This is how you want him to die?” Duval spat in her face, raising her hand above her head, “By the rope?”

“Fuck you.” She spat, daring to fight, anything to buy Scott more time. 

He threw her to the floor, kicking at her hand where it grasped the rope, catching her fingers between his boot and the wall. She knew she screamed as she heard the crunch, but it didn’t matter as she struggled back to her knees. 

Duval grabbed the back of her neck, his finger squeezing tight enough to bruise as he pulled her upright to watch as the guards took the rope and began to wrap it around Scott’s neck. 

She needed something. 

Above her head a beam of sunlight shone through a ground level window, landing on the opposite wall right above Scott. She’d seen enough sunrises and enough sunsets to know how the golden tones were different between the two, the fresh blue-gold of a sunrise that much cooler than the reddish-gold of a sunset. 

You are Eos. She had smiled once sat on the porch swing as the sun rose on the east horizon, Named after the dawn . 

“ Eos .” She whimpered, eyes widening as Scott writhed, the rope tightening at his neck, and a rod sparked.

“Eos!” She cried as Scott’s scream was choked off, “Artemis became Eos!”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, and if the USAF got wind of it she knew it would be the end of their family’s ai as they knew her.

To save Scott though, it was enough. 

The guard froze in his next strike, looking to Duval for direction. 

“Eos.” Lucy looked to him, her voice shaking, “You’re looking for Eos.”

He dropped her, leaving her to crumble on the ground. 

Above her Scott gasped out a full breath, the sound music to hear ears, even as it rattled in his chest. 

Duval towered over her, his shadow darkening as the sun rose outside the room, “You should have told me that months ago, woman.” 

She grit her teeth as she glared up at him, keeping her breath steady. If they were lucky he would search in the right places, draw attention to himself from the little ai that she loved like a child. It had bought them time, perhaps not much, perhaps not enough, but it was something. 

As hands grabbed her from behind, the rope pulling tight around her wrists, she knew she was back to just needing to survive. 

Just a little longer. 

***

She had barely been able to dress herself after they had deposited them both back in the cell, but she had persisted and dragged herself to Scott’s side before she had settled. Each breath rattled on his chest, the skin on show raw and blistered, and black and blue. It wouldn’t have been the first time either of them had broken a rib, though she was sure since then it had just been one long period of learning to live with the ache in both of their chests. It was the first time they had been actively trying to kill him though. 

Before, she had been sure they had always known just where the boundary lay. Somehow they had always managed to stop just at the right moment, just when it hurt the most. 

Whilst they had let up after she had given them Eos’ name, they hadn’t by any means stopped hurting him. 

“Wake up Scotty,” She whispered, combing through his too long hair with her unbroken hand, not thinking about how long she had gone on protecting her fingers, hoping to play the piano again. 

It didn’t matter, as long as he was okay. 

His eyes flickered, the skin around them dark with exhaustion, “M-m?”

“I’m here.” She soothed, “I’ve got you.”

She hoped he didn’t remember what they had done after she had given Eos’ name, that he had been too out of it to really register what they had forced him to watch.

As his eyes scanned over her though, she could see that he knew. 

“It’s okay.” She whispered, “I’m alright.” 

He frowned up at her, “Why are they--” he paused for a breath, “so desperate?”

She glanced up at the sound of footsteps, listening. 

Shouting further along the corridor, demands to move and do something she wasn’t sure of. 

“They’re losing.” She whispered, still watching the door, “We just have to survive a little longer kiddo, okay?”

His breaths were heavy as he followed her gaze to the door, one of his hands reaching up to catch hers in his hair as he nodded slowly. 

“We’ve got this.” He swallowed. 

She kissed his fingers, praying it would be enough. 

Chapter Text

Lucy had gone ahead with the boys, promising to have coffee ready when he caught up with them on the farm. It felt surreal to be moving into his childhood home, to fill his parents house with his own grown-up things and his children’s toys. 

Though he wasn’t sure quite how it would all fit, given the size of the van he had just slotted the last box into. 

“Captain Tracy.” 

Jeff stepped back from the van, turning in surprise at the voice, “Captain Rodgers!” He stepped forward, holding a hand out to the man, “It’s good to see you back on your feet.”

“All thanks to you, Jeff.” Sam nodded, “Though it’ll be a while before I’m back in the air.”

Jeff shook his head, “You’re staying in the Force?”

“Yeah, I’ve no interest in space like you. I’ll work my way up to a desk job eventually.” He folded his arms as he examined the carefully packed van, “You got a lotta stuff there Tracy.”

Jeff smiled, patting the final box, “A wife and two boys, their stuff soon takes over the place.”

Rodger’s laugh was soft as he nodded in agreement, “I knew I was better off single. Mind, I’m going to miss the little Apollo racing round the place.”

Jeff laughed, Scott’s nickname on the base well known amongst all of the residents. He hadn’t been the first to state the sentiment, and Jeff was sure he’d get plenty of texts over the coming weeks from airmen that had missed their departure. 

“He’ll be back,” He nodded, pulling the van door closed, “that one’s got jet fuel in his blood and the horizon in his eyes.”

Rodger’s smile fell for a moment, just long enough for Jeff to catch before he recovered himself with a clap to Jeff’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him in a few years.” 

He didn’t doubt that plenty of others would be keeping their eye out for the kid, a legacy, some had already whispered when they thought Jef hadn’t been listening. 

“Do me a favour and keep him out of trouble.” He chuckled, already knowing what his eldest could be like. 

There was a twinkle in Rodgers’ eye as he smiled in return, “I sure will.”

~

Major Evangaline Casey wasn’t the kind of woman to be taken by surprise. She made it her business to know what she needed to know, before she needed to know it. 

The request for her to fly halfway across the world to an Air Base in the North of France had caught her off guard though. There hadn’t been any updates on the war, nothing beyond the chatter she had told Jeff about at Christmas. Each friend she had asked had given her the same answer, that there wouldn’t be anyone left to save after so long. 

She had refused to listen to them all. 

It had been hard to ignore the flicker of hope that had ignited at the request, made all the harder when a pair of General’s had met her on the tarmac and transported her to a Parisian Military hospital. She had purposefully squashed the thoughts that dared to sneak in, knowing better than to let them linger and swell into something more than fantasies. It wouldn’t have been her striding along the hallways if she was about to meet the pair she longed to lay eyes on. 

They had made her sign a non-disclosure agreement, warning her off of sharing whatever she was about to see. 

They didn’t need to know that she would be the judge of what she did and didn’t disclose to a certain retired Colonel. 

As she stepped through the door, she had straightened in surprise. 

It hadn’t been what she had expected at all. 

She had read the lists, watched the feed from every camera angle available. She had gotten the notification each time one of the survivors had succumbed to their injuries, and each time one had been released. She had spoken to each of them that she could in the hope of finding something new, some vital piece that would lead her to Lucy and Scott. 

General Samuel Rodgers had been buried under the rubble of the bunk house, his injuries life threatening. Nobody had expected him to pull through, and Val had all but forgotten about the man after the fourth month with no sign of him waking from his coma. 

“General Rodgers.” She swallowed, “It’s good to see you up.”

“Major Casey.” He nodded, “It’s good to be up.”

She took him in, from the prosthetic arm, to the scars running down the left side of his face. He would likely never fly again, possibly face discharge on medical grounds after all he had been through. 

But to Val, none of that mattered. 

General Rodgers had been the last person to speak to Lucy. He had been the one to send her running, the one that had known what the Bereznian forces were after. 

“Thank you for coming,” He told her, gesturing to the chair by the bed, “please, take a seat.”

She did as he offered, sitting straight in the hard plastic of the chair, “What do you remember?”

He eyed her, his lips pressed thin as he thought through an answer, “Almost everything. She didn’t get out, did she?”

“Both her and Scott have been missing for seven and a half months.” She told him, “The Bereznian’s deny having any prisoners.” 

He sunk back against the pillows, shaking his head slowly as he looked up to the ceiling. 

“It’s my fault.”

“Yes,” She cleared her throat, “it is.” 

There wasn’t time for pulling her punches, not just because he was in a hospital bed, not when he had been the one to pull Lucy into the mess. 

“Why?” She uttered, knowing raised voices would bring doctors running, “Why did you do it?”

He looked back at her, his eyes blazing as he did. She was glad, it meant he still cared enough, that he still knew what it was to care for the people under him unlike some of the Generals she had met. 

“To save the boy.” He hissed, “Artemis was out of my hands, my superiors wanted someone different to take on the project. When I heard Tracy was on the cards as one of the pilots, I knew we needed something to keep him grounded. Lucy was the best thing I could think of.”

Val stood, kicking at the chair as she turned away from the bed, squeezing her fingers into her fists. 

How could she blame him? He had been right. His reasoning had been sound. With no co-pilot to worry about Scott had nothing to lose if it meant protecting someone else. 

None of them had anticipated such a scale of an attack on the base. 

“How did they find out?” She asked, bringing the chair back around to sit down again. 

Rodgers shook his head, “I don’t know, Val. It was top secret, nobody outside of that base knew.”

“John Tracy knew.” She sighed, looking to the window, “Scott let slip to his brother the same day you and Lucy told him.”

“John, the one with the AI?”

Val tensed at the mention of Eos, turning back to him with the question in her eyes.

“I saw her data-pad hooked up to Scott’s plane. I might have borrowed it to check what she had been doing.” He shrugged, only looking half guilty as he watched her, “You told me that night we shared margaritas about one of the boys having an interest in programming, mentioned something called Eos.”

She remembered a lot of things from that night, the food, the company, the fancy hotel room that they had shared. She’d hoped that he’d been drunk enough to not remember, had assumed she had gotten lucky when nothing had come of it for the family.

“Relax.” He told her, half a smile playing on his lips, “I’ve kept the secret this long, I’m not going to drop them in it now.”

She nodded slowly, “Thank you.” 

His smile fell serious, “Jeff saved my life, it’s the least I can do for them.”

It was the whole reason she believed him. Jeff had pulled him out, back when both had been Captains appointed with testing out the original Artemis Intelligence. Jeff had disobeyed direct orders to save his fellow airman from a jet doomed to hit the ground. Jeff had pulled Rodgers out and then acted like nothing had ever happened. 

She wasn’t sure if Lucy knew that detail, or if it had been something glossed over when they had talked of the abandoned project. 

“The least you can do is help me find his wife and son.” She bit, shifting forward in her seat, “I need something , Sam, coordinates, a heading, a description. Tell me you have something so that I can get out there and find them.”

He sighed heavily as he shook his head slowly, “The recon mission from the day before the attack, I hadn’t finished writing up the report.”

It was what she had assumed from the start, that the details she needed were in the reports that hadn’t been finished. It was why she had spoken to every survivor, why she had watched every tape. 

“There was a building they were suspicious of,” He started slowly, “I’m sorry, I can’t remember the coordinates, but it was close to the border, twenty or thirty miles maybe. Outside it looked like nothing, an old house or something, but they got too many heat signatures.”

“Hiding in plain sight.” She nodded, swallowing as the information processed, “That’s why we couldn’t find them, we were looking at the prisons.”

It was what she needed, something she could take and run with even if the other General’s would have her hide for it. 

“Find them, Val.” Sam begged, “Don’t let anyone stop you.”

She nodded as she stood from her seat, looking to her phone as it buzzed, “I’ll keep you informed, if you can keep them off my tail.”

His smile was small, grim, as he nodded in return, “Copy that, Major.”

As she stepped out of the room she pressed her phone to her ear, “Jeff, I’ve got something.”

***

Jeff was determined to make something of the weekend, even if Gordon had insisted he didn’t want a fuss for his birthday. All he wanted was to swim, to spend as many hours as he could at the pool whilst his competitors were out on dinner dates. 

He had pulled the box of decorations out from the cupboard in the office once the boys had all left for school. Then he had sat and stared at them for a solid hour before he had finally kicked himself into gear and pulled the first banner from the box. 

Normalcy was what they all needed, and though he had accepted John’s wish to not celebrate his birthday back in October, he knew it wasn’t something they could ignore forever. Lucy would have his hide for one, birthdays and anniversaries, both things she always went all-in on. She would never forgive him if he allowed them to be days where the boys wallowed in grief of her and Scott’s absence. 

His mother was collecting the cake from the local bakers, a squid shaped thing that he hoped would earn a laugh when the boys saw it. There were all the ingredients for lasagne in the fridge, Gordon’s favourite family meal that Jeff had spent years perfecting. The next morning he planned to make pancakes with blueberries and lemon, just as the swimmer liked. 

If it was the right thing to do, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he owed it to his family to at least try. 

“Jeff,” Eos flashed up from her station on the coffee table, “I have news that I believe may be of importance.”

“I’m getting ready for a fifteen year old’s birthday party, Eos,” He sighed as the banner sagged in the centre over the mantle, “What is it?”

“Lucy’s watch began transmitting a signal,”

As the ai chattered about the time of year and sunlight recharging the battery of the item, Jeff stumbled from the chair he had been balancing on. Behind him the banner fell, landing in a heap on the mantle, the weight of the unpinned half pulling out the single pin he had stuck on the opposite side.

“Eos, stop, go back.” He blinked, falling to his knees next to her, “A signal? You said it was dead.”

He’d asked her time and again for weeks in the beginning, hoping for a change in her answer. Each time he had been disappointed as she had told him the watch was not transmitting.

“Previously, yes, I was unable to make a connection, however, I have continued to attempt a connection every half an hour for the last two hundred and sixteen days.” 

He knew how long it had been, had looked at the calendar each and every morning and prayed that it wouldn’t be too late. 

“Can you pinpoint it?” He asked, pulling his phone out to bring up Val’s number.

“Only down to a hundred square miles.”

He paused, thinking for a moment, “A hun-- that’s the size of Kansas City.”

She flashed a soft blue, “The watch is damaged, I am sorry I cannot be more accurate.”

“No, no,” He swallowed, taking a breath as he ran a hand through his hair, “Eos this is good… this could be-- I need to talk to Val, get her on the line, Cat Five.”

“Jeff, I’ve got something.” She answered immediately, voice only.

“So have we.” He told her, “Eos got a signal.”

Her pause was long, her breath heavy across the line as she sucked in a breath, “Where?”

Eos didn’t need to be asked as she presented the area she had spoken of. 

Val sighed softly, her voice dropping as she continued, “Narrow it down to thirty miles from the border.”

Jeff watched as Eos did so, frowning at the suggestion, “Val, what do you--”

“When can you get to London?” She cut him off. 

The banner fluttered from the top of the mantle to the floor, it’s bright yellow design catching in the soft February sunlight.

“It’s Gordon’s birthday tomorrow.” He sighed, torn between his two options. 

He wasn’t sure of what they would find, not after so long, not with the Bereznian’s losing the war. For all he had held on to the hope and his faith that his wife and son were strong and brave, he knew there was a strong possibility that whatever answers he found would break him.

It felt wrong when he had waited so long for such answers. 

“One more day won’t make a difference.” Val assured softly, “I need to organise things, talk to Hugh, see if we can pinpoint somewhere. I know what I’m looking for--”

“What?” He asked quickly, “How do you know?”

Her tut was loud across the comm, no doubt wary of sharing too much wherever she was, “I could get discharged for this, you know?”

It was something he’d considered months before, when the designs on his desk had demanded his attention and he hadn’t been able to ignore them any longer. He’d passed them to Hiram, looped him in on what he needed to know, and asked him if he could make them a reality. 

It had been the day after Lucy’s birthday that the engineer had returned with the altered plans. Over a month later, they were still spread out on the desk, still in need of someone to eventually pilot the ships Lucy had talked so eagerly about.

“If you do, come and let me know. Lucy and I have a project I think you’ll be interested in.”

Val’s snort was short, he could picture her shaking her head as she walked, the sounds of a road finally being picked up by the comm.

“Rodgers sends his regards.” 

Jeff blinked, sinking back in surprise, “Rodgers is alive?”

“Hugh’s, forty-eight hours.” She instructed, leaving no room for argument, “I’ll update you then.”

He huffed as he sunk back on the rug, shaking his head to himself as he looked to the banner on the floor. 

“Eos, make yourself available for whatever Val needs.” He swallowed, “Don’t let anything on to the boys, not until we have more answers.”

One more day of their new normal, one more day that he was determined to make the best of, one more day that he hoped Lucy and Scott would forgive him for.

Chapter Text

Lucy had been dropping hints for weeks, little comments about a winter holiday before Scott finished school, and how log cabins and snowy forests made the season all the more magical. Jeff knew she’d spoken to the boys about it, made sure they were comfortable with the idea before she had likely made her mind up about it all. He hadn’t been sure if she knew he was on to her, or if the hints were because she wasn’t sure how he would take the idea. 

The brochure she had left on their shared office desk was decidedly less subtle than the rest of her hints put together. 

Shaking his head as he set down his own coffee on the desk along with the bag of food, he looked across to where she was sketching on the drawing board set in the window. She had her headphones in, he knew from how she hadn’t looked up when he had walked into the office, and Hiram had warned him of the failed design that had literally sent her back to the drawing board when the math hadn’t worked out earlier that morning. It would have been deadly to approach her without the latte, so he had taken an early lunch run on behalf of the entire engineering team. 

“Honey,” He called as he approached her, “Luce?”

She didn’t look up until he set the coffee in the cupholder on the board, her amber eyes wide with surprise as she pulled out one headphone. 

“You’re not being very subtle.” He murmured as he kissed her hair. 

She frowned at him as he went back to his desk, sinking down in the seat as she spun on her stool with the coffee. 

“About the problem or something else?”

He shifted back in his chair, leaning against the softened leather as he picked up the brochure and read the title from the front page, “Luxury log cabin holidays in Vermont.”

The way her eyes narrowed on him was enough warning as she slipped from the stool and crossed the room, the math problem from that morning had already set her on edge without having to go back to step one with the designs. She had been annoyed with herself for not seeing the issues sooner, for somehow not predicting them at the initial design phase.

By calling her out on the holiday, Jeff knew he’d put himself in the firing line. 

Her coffee sloshed against the lid as she set it down on the desk too hard before folding her arms as she stood in front of him. 

He loved her when she was all riled up. 

“It’s been two and a half years, Jeff.” She stated, “It was my parents that we lost out there, it was me, Scott and Alan that were in danger, and I know it impacted the rest of you too but we’re ready.” 

The amber of her eyes was hard, daring him to disagree with her and give her more munition to fire back at him with. Her jaw was tight, her mind set and unwavering in the decision that she had made. The way she had shifted her weight to one foot and cocked her hip told him how she was ready to snatch her coffee from the desk and leave if she needed to. 

If she did, Jeff knew he would follow her, but he didn’t plan on letting things get to that point. 

“We all love skiing.” She stated, “Virgil was so excited about his first snowboard lesson and Gordon wanted to learn too. We need to show Alan how to get on the lifts! We dealt with snow here the last two winters, it was fine, and I know this will be different and maybe it’ll be hard.”

She didn’t shift as he pushed himself up from his seat, instead simply shifting her gaze to keep her eyes locked on him as he approached her. 

“But if we don’t go now, we never will. I don’t want that to be the kind of example we set for the boys.”

When his hands landed on her hips, she didn’t react, her glare didn’t soften, and her jaw didn’t loosen. He loved how passionate she was, how strong and fierce she always fought for things that she loved. 

“It’s not a ski holiday.” She stated, refusing to let up, “Just a lodge in the snow, just to see how things are.”

From years of loving her, he had learned that she was her most fierce when she was worried and anxious. The idea of going somewhere far snowier than their home state perhaps had been her own, but he didn’t doubt that it was for the sake of their sons that she had talked herself into it whether she was ready or not. 

He would, of course, ensure they all coped. He’d make sure therapy appointments were made as needed, and that the boys appreciated that the trip might not be all fun and games. There had been nightmares for all of them after the avalanche, and Jeff hadn’t been sure that the mountains would ever be something his family would willingly face again. 

Lucy had introduced him to skiing though, and he had been confident after the first few months that one day she would inevitably want to return to the hobby. Her dropped hints hadn’t been entirely unexpected, and he’d known exactly where he wanted to take her when the subject had come up.

“I know.” He murmured, swaying her slightly on her spot as his hands reached further around her back from her waist, “That’s why I booked it.”

Her arms fell to land against his, her jaw dropping as she tried to find a response.

“You-- I -- but--”

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he squeezed her waist and pulled her to him, “I was going to surprise you with it for your birthday next month.”

Her jaw finally gave way, the tension loosening the lines as her face dropped into a pout, “You were?”

Leaning down to kiss her nose, he nodded, “I talked to the boys already, they’re all eager for it, but they weren’t sure that you were ready.” 

“They already--” She huffed, shaking her head at him, “You all tricked me!” 

The spark of anger wasn’t real, not compared to when she had been venting at him in her need to get across just how important it was for them to go. Jeff loved it nonetheless, loved how even after so long, he and the boys could fool her. 

“Sure did.” He lifted her, turning to set her down on the desk so he could root in the top drawer for the envelope, “Ten days over Christmas, in the chalet on page seven of your brochure I believe.”

He’d picked it out for the proximity to the ski resort that gave the option of never having to head past the slopes if they didn’t want to.

Knowing Lucy, he gave it three days before she was hiring out a set of skis. 

She didn’t bother opening the envelope, instead setting it down next to her coffee as she looked back to him. 

“I don’t-- I-- Jeff it’s not that I don’t appreciate it but…” Her eyes darted down to the brochure she was half sitting on. 

“Hey,” He murmured, tucking a strand of hair back that had escaped her ponytail, “if we get there and it’s too much, we come home. Nobody expects you to throw yourself back into it just like that, not me, not the boys. I want you to be happy Luce, and if this is something you want to try and go back to, I’m with you, every step of the way.”

She threw her arms around his neck, her legs twisting around his waist to pull him closer as her lips found his.

“I love you.” She whispered, barely pulling back, “So much.”

He smiled against her kiss, his hands sneaking under her polo-shirt, “I love you too, Honey.”

Her returning look had a new set to her jaw, softer than before, as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Eos?” She called softly as she ran her hands back over his shoulders and down his chest, “Lock the door.” 

~

Lucy had warned Scott of what she knew, of the fact the war was all but lost and there were plans to abandon the base. It had torn her in two to tell him of their plans for each of them, and when he had smiled and assured her it would be okay, she had all but sobbed. 

She had told him of her plan, of her hope that Duval would play his part and give her one thing if she promised to give him what he wanted of her. At the time, he had been too in pain to argue, his most recent encounter with the guards as harsh as the one before. 

“I won’t let him take you.” He whispered, hours later when the footsteps outside their cell had long since fallen quiet, “If he comes, I’ll kill him.”

There had been hatred in his eyes, their blue dark and stormy as they had been since the day she had told them of Eos. 

She hoped that their search would help, that their little family intelligence would pick up on something left by the Berznian’s and find them. Once the war was over, she had no doubt that Jeff would come, that he would find whatever place it was where they were being kept and take Scott home. They just had to hold on.

“How?” She hissed back at him, still hearing the wheeze in his chest with each breath, “Scott you can’t.” 

He wouldn’t win, not after so long without any real food, not when they were so weak and the soldiers so strong, not without a weapon to defend himself. 

“I can .” He bit out, his eyes darting to the door from where he was sitting against the wall, “And I will .”

“Would you, just for once, listen to me?” She snapped, “Scott, yo-- ”

“No.” He snapped back, pushing himself to his feet, “ You listen to me Sergeant.” 

She stood to match him, meeting the challenge in his eye.

“ I am a Captain of the USAF.” Scott ground out, fighting to keep his voice low, to not draw attention, “And I will--”

Both spun as the bolt of the door squeaked, each standing straight as they hadn’t done for so long. Whichever guard entered would be suspicious, they’d know they were both up to something when they had done nothing but shrink back from whoever came for them time after time. 

As Duval stepped into the cell, he simply looked unimpressed. 

“Ms Taylor,” He looked straight to her, “will you come quietly?” 

The way he asked, the way he didn’t smile as he said the words, the way his uniform was still fresh and crisp instead of half a day old, told her what she had been dreading. 

If she left, she wasn’t going to end up back in the cell. 

“She will.” Scott stated from behind her before she could begin to bargain.

She spun to face her son, gaping in silent question as she tried to understand what he was saying. 

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he charged past her, diving at the Major and using the element of surprise to his advantage. A low blow had Duval stumbling backwards towards the door, followed quickly by a hook to the man’s eye that sent him further out of the cell. 

She raced to follow, knowing Scott couldn’t do it alone, that Duval would kill him if he got the chance. She had to get between them, to protect Scott and distract Duval. 

Both were on the floor outside the cell, Scott somehow with the upper hand atop the Major. His fists rained down, blind to any technique, as he battered the larger man. It was rage like she’d seen times before, rage that had protected little brothers in the playground, rage that had pushed him through the Air Force to a Captain of his own making, rage that had made him protect her all that time. 

Before she could move, a single guard came sprinting down the hallway. He grabbed Scott by the collar, hoisting him up and throwing him against the wall. 

“Run.” He gasped out, his eyes meeting Lucy’s. 

She obeyed before she had consciously thought about it. 

“Deal with him.” Duval growled as she moved, heading further along the hall in the direction neither of them had ever been taken. She stumbled up the wooden stairs, her feet not cooperating after so long of moving so little. 

The little room she came to was cold and empty, ratty lace curtains fluttering in a frozen breeze through a broken window. The furniture in the room was old, broken and worn from years of being exposed to the elements. 

All that time, they’d been underneath a home. 

A gunshot from below paralysed her. She knew she should run, escape whilst she could and find the help they sorely needed. 

She was almost certain that it hadn’t been Scott who had pulled the trigger.

Hands from behind grabbed her, lifting her from the floor and slinging her over a shoulder. 

“No!” She screamed, kicking and punching the man’s back, “No! Let me go!” 

She knew he wouldn’t as a door was pulled open. 

“Scream all you want, Ms Taylor.” Duval grunted, “We are the only ones left to hear.”

“No.” She twisted, finding purchase against his top and pulling until she slipped free and to the floor, rolling until she found her footing. 

His hand grabbed at her wrist, tightening against the already fragile bones, pulling her back to him.

“Let me go!” She begged, looking towards the stairs, “Just-- Let me see him! Then I’ll come quietly, I won’t fight.”

She let the tears flow as her knees gave way, “ Please .”

She needed to know if she had a son left to save.

Duval huffed, pulling her up by her wrist and throwing her back over his shoulder as she sobbed. 

Relief threatened to drown her as he turned for the stairs. 

With each step she focussed on her breaths, evening them out as she thought of what came next. She needed to escape, to find help and tell Jeff that she had tried to save their son. She needed to look her husband in the eyes one more time as she told him how she had failed as a mother, how she had tried for so long to protect their son from the cruelty the world had shown them both but how, ultimately, it had been futile. 

It was all her fault. 

If it hadn’t been for her he would never have been captured. He would have been safe at home, perhaps back in time for Christmas with the rest of their family. 

What? Duval’s soft whisper in his native tongue distracted her right before he dropped her to the floor. 

She landed with a wince, not bothering to move for a long moment, not sure if she was ready to face what she expected to find. Her stomach was churning, twisting tighter and tighter at the thought of pushing herself up and either looking or running. 

Her strength hadn’t been enough to save Scott, how could she possibly save herself?

“I am Captain Scott Tracy of the USAF.” 

Lucy’s head snapped up at the voice, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the guard on the floor in the doorway of the cell. 

Before she could move, two shots rang out. 

Duval fell to the floor next to her. 

“Scott.” She choked out, stumbling to her feet, “ Scott .” 

He was barely standing, his weight entirely on one foot as he leant heavily into the wall facing the cell door, the gun in his hand one that every guard had carried the whole time they had been there. His eyes raked over her, looking for injury or making sure she was real, she wasn’t sure, but once he was satisfied, he slipped to the floor with a heavy breath. 

The gun’s magazine was slipped out into his hand, the rounds counted silently before it was shoved forcefully back into place. 

He’d gotten the gun. 

He’d killed them both. 

Her son was alive.

“My leg’s broken.” He sniffed, gritting his teeth as he shifted, “Can you find something to make a splint?”

His leg didn’t look overly swollen, nor was it sitting at an abnormal angle, but Scott had broken bones before, he knew what it felt like. She could only stare, watching how he tucked the gun behind himself as he bit his lip against the pain.

“How did you get the gun?” She whispered.

He looked across to her, swallowing as he nodded towards the door, “Wrestled it off of the guard.”

A move as dangerous as fighting Duval, a risk she hadn’t wanted him to take, one she could have gotten around if he had just listened to her. Duval had listened in the end, had given her the one thing she had wanted when she had begged for it. If Scott had let her barter in the first place he never would have needed to fight.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” She yelled, knowing they were alone, knowing nobody would come for them, “Why didn’t you just do what I said for once!”

“I knew what I was doing.” He kept his voice low, quick learned habits not falling away so easily. 

Drawing his back up against the wall where he sat, he swallowed, “I was protecting you.” His face screwed up as he shifted his leg, his breath catching for a moment before he looked back to her, “As your Captain, I wasn’t going to let you go with the man that raped you.”

Lucy looked away at the word, “Don’t--”

“No!” He snapped, his voice finally raising, “You don’t . I’m the Captain here, it’s my job to look after my team and keep them safe, not yours.”

She met his eye again, grinding her teeth, “I am your mother.”

“That doesn’t make it your job to sacrifice yourself!” He doubled forward as his breath caught in his chest, a cough echoing loud through the empty building. 

She dropped to her knees next to him, catching his shoulder to support him as he caught his breath. He slumped back, paler than he had been before their argument, the pinpricks of blood on his lips emphasising his pallor. 

“I knew you’d come back,” He swallowed, each breath heavier as he looked at her, “that Duval would follow you. I took him out there to see how many were left.”

“Hush now.” She soothed, part of her not wanting to hear the explanation, “Just breathe Scott, okay? Just--”

“You’ve gotta go.” He cut her off as he reached up to tug at the sleeves of his flight suit, the garment torn and ragged, “Find help. We can’t be far from-- from the border.”

Shaking her head, she caught his wrist, “I’m not leaving you.”

She couldn’t, not when he was hurt and fighting for each and every breath. 

“Mom, you’ve got to.” He swallowed again, eyes darting to his leg and then back to her, “I can’t walk. They’ll come back when they realise Duval isn’t following them.” He grunted in pain as he tried again to pull his flight suit off, “Get to the border, find help, before they come back.”

“I--I can’t.” She choked out, feeling everything thickening in her chest.

“Yes, you can.” He whispered, meeting her eyes, pleading with her as he took her good hand, “You have to. Please, don’t make me order you.” 

The look in his eyes told her he would, even if he didn’t want to. 

She hated that she knew he was right, that she should have trusted him from the start. The night before they had left home she had told Val how she would respect the chain of command, that Scott’s Captaincy had been earned despite the legacy his father had left. His plan had worked, had saved them both from any immediate danger. She could assume he hadn’t planned on the fracture complicating things, that he had planned on walking out of there alongside her until they reached safety. 

Life never did run so smoothly. 

“Let me find something to set your leg.” She swallowed, pulling away, “Then we’ll talk.”

“Okay.” He sighed, “Alright.”

She waited until she was out of the cell before she allowed the tears to fall. 

Pulling up floorboards from the upper level served as both a trap and a splint for his leg, rope from that room on the right enough to secure them in place, a knife from the wall serving to cut the lengths as needed pocketed for what she knew came next. She had collected a bucket of water, unable to watch as she filled it under the tap, Scott would need to stay hydrated at the very least, and she knew he wouldn’t be moving far from the cell. 

Duval’s gun had been obvious in its holster as she stepped back over him into the cell, and she hadn’t hesitated in pulling it to pass on to Scott. She had felt sick as she had helped him out of his flight suit, and worse as she had set his leg straight with the boards, the bile burning in her throat as he had cried out in agony. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, holding onto him as he gasped for breath, allowing his own long held-in tears to fall. 

“You need to go.” He breathed, pushing the guard’s gun into her hand.

As a Captain, she knew she had to trust him. He wasn’t her boy that needed protecting, hadn’t been ever since they had gotten there. He was Scott Tracy, Captain in the USAF, the man that had acted and given out commands on that fateful day and who nobody had questioned in the air. In the face of everything, he had fought time and again, both as both a Captain and her son. 

He hadn’t ignored her instructions time and again because he was a Captain, the truth was, he had taken each one on board and weighed them up as options. Ever since Duval had tricked him into calling out for her, she knew his each and every decision when it came to the man had been carefully weighed up. 

Each and every time they had cast her back into the cell, naked and hurting, he had kept his promise to not react - because he had weighed it up as the best possible option. Each time he had antagonised them. Each time he had made her eat first. Each time he had thrown the first punch. It had all been a careful decision based on everything he had known, all focussed solely on keeping them both alive.

“Keep it.” She told him, pushing the gun back into his hands, knowing he would need all the rounds he could get if they were to come back. 

“Look at me.” Cradling his face between her hands she wiped under his eyes, her voice catching as she realised just how warm he was, “I love you, Scott Carpenter.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat, forcing back the tears she didn’t have time for, “I am proud of everything you are, and I am sorry it took me until now to see all sides of that person. You have been so strong, so brave, and I just need you to hold on to that for a little longer, okay?”

She sniffed against the tears that were threatening, not knowing how to leave him. 

“I’ll come back.” She nodded, gritting her teeth, knowing he needed help more than she needed to stay with him, “I’ll find help, and I’ll bring them straight to you, I swear it, okay?”

He nodded slowly, leaning towards her to press his head against hers, “I’ll be okay.” He whispered, his voice cracking on the second word, “Love you, Momma.”

Swallowing every ounce of pain that filled her heart, she pressed her lips to his too warm forehead, “Think of home, baby. Think of your brothers, your dad, they’ll be so pleased to see you.”

“Go and find them.” He pulled back, clearing his throat as he forced his flight suit into her hands, “I’ll be okay.”

It was unnatural to slip into the coverall that was too broad and too long, but it was an extra layer against the elements that had felt bitingly cold when she had escaped up the stairs. Once she had rolled up the ankles, she had stood, glancing over everything she had left him, hoping it would be enough.

“I’ll be back.” She nodded, taking a single step away from him, “I love you.”

He nodded in return, the whisper of a smile ghosting across his lips as he tilted his head back to the wall, “Love you too, Mom, always will.”

She turned as she stepped through the door, and didn’t dare to look back.

Chapter Text

It was her favourite time of year, the lights in the street bright and bold, the music loud and jolly, the presents under the tree a surprise for Christmas morning. 

Yet, she couldn’t face it. Not the music or the decorations, or the wrapping of presents. 

Jeff had called her out on it, not unkindly, understandably concerned after the drama of Virgil’s birth and the weeks that had followed. He had gone with her to the doctors appointment, held her hand through the blood tests, had driven her to the therapists office and waited outside for the hour she had been in there. 

He had been everything she had needed and more, had held her when the tears had come for no reason, and had told her a thousand times over what a great job she was doing. 

Her therapist had assured her that it was early days and that time was all she needed. 

When it came to herself, Lucy had never been a patient woman. 

Sally had let herself in the house after picking Scott up from school as she had been doing for the last four months. Jeff was out with John at another appointment, which had left her with her newest baby for some much needed quiet time. 

“Momma?” Scott had whispered as he had cracked open the nursery door, “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah.” She whispered in return, “You can come and see.”

Unlike his two brothers before him, Virgil slept through most things, something that had added to her stress after his tumultuous start in life. 

“Did he grow again?” Scott frowned as he leant over the arm of the rocking chair, “When did he get so big?”

She laughed softly, “You think so?”

“Yeah!” Scott whisper-shouted, “He used to be, like, this big.”

The gesture he made with his hands was absolutely smaller than Virgil ever had been, but he still made a good point. 

“It’s all that sleep.” Sally murmured softly from the door, “Helps him grow big and strong.”

Scott grinned as he followed Lucy across to the cot, watching carefully as she set him down inside. 

“If I read quietly, can I sit in here with him?” He asked, turning his wide blue eyes on his mother. 

She hadn’t been the only one affected by the baby’s extended stay in hospital. 

“Sure thing,” she ran a hand through his hair, “just remember to come down when I call you for dinner, okay?”

His grin didn’t falter as he pulled a book from the shelf and sat down on the rug by the cot. 

Calmed slightly by her eldest supervising his new youngest brother, she followed Sally down to the kitchen and set about unpacking Scott’s lunchbox. 

“How are you?” Sally asked, taking a perch against the table, as Lucy pulled the dishwasher open and started stacking the pots from lunch.

Fine , was an automatic response that she knew her family didn’t want to hear. The actual answer was a lot harder to articulate to someone's face. Jeff had assured her that her mother-in-law had experienced the same issues though, that she understood what she was feeling even if she couldn’t put it into so many words. 

“I have three kids aged five and under.” She sighed, pausing as she set a glass on the counter top, “And I love all three of them, but I just don’t feel like I’m enough for them, and right now nothing anyone says or does is changing that.”

Sally’s sigh was sympathetic as she nodded, “Because Virgil came early?”

She frowned at the older woman, knowing that the tears stinging her eyes weren’t far off from making it down her cheeks. 

Whilst she had always been emotional, she hated how easily she cried those days. Just talking about the problem seemed to flip a switch, her brain seemingly having no control over what she wanted to happen versus what did happen. 

“I couldn’t keep him safe.” She whispered as she looked down, “I must have done something different, something wrong .”

Sally stood from her perch, closing the dishwasher and shaking her head as she reached out to Lucy’s hands.

“You did nothing wrong, dear.”

Sally was a doctor, a professional that had never pulled her punches and always told Lucy everything she needed to know in a no-nonsense fashion. The woman knew Lucy, had done since she had been the new teenager in town. Despite not being an obgyn, she had walked her through all three of her pregnancies better than any other doctor she had known. 

“I just want them all safe and well,” she whispered, “and every time I close my eyes I wake up thinking something must have happened to one of them.”

Sally’s sigh was soft as she squeezed Lucy’s hands, “Have you told your therapist this?”

Nodding, she sniffed away the tears, “We’re working on techniques to manage the anxiety, but it’s slow going.”

“These things often are, dear.” Sally nodded, “It took me months to get ahead of it.”

Lucy pulled out two chairs at the table, sinking into one as she swiped at her cheeks to catch any of the stray tears. 

“You did though, get better?”

Sally smiled, taking her hand on the table, “With the help of my family and my friends, I realised something that didn’t happen until years later.”

Lucy tilted her head, unsure of what she was talking about and if she was meant to ask for clarification.

“Yes, it’s a lot right now,” Sally continued, “and I’m not saying this makes it any easier, but I realised that one day that little baby that you fretted over and did your best to protect in every way possible, they’ll pay it back to you. When you get to my age, they’ll be all over their Momma, wanting to spoil you rotten and help you, even when you don’t need it!”

Lucy smiled at the thought, “You mean like Jeff coming to fix your sink last week?”

“Who do you think taught him basic plumbing?” Sally raised an eyebrow. 

Her own laugh startled her as Sally patted her hand gently. 

“What I mean, dear, is that you can do your best to protect them now and rightly so. One day though, you’ll realise that the tables have turned, and whilst they’ll always love you, they won’t need you to protect them any more.”

“That feels like a long way away.”

Sally smiled, looking to the photos on the fridge, “Oh, it is. But for me, every time I felt like I wasn’t enough, or like I hadn’t done my job properly as his mother, I knew that one day he would understand, and somehow, that just made it a little bit easier to cope.”

~

Years later, Lucy clung to her mother-in-laws words as she forced herself forward along the bank of a river. The map she had found in Duval’s car had promised her the border had been in the same direction as the river had flowed away from the dilapidated house that had served as a prison.

Scott hadn’t wanted her to leave, the sobs she had heard as she had forced herself up the stairs had confirmed just what she had expected. Not that she had been able to turn back, or else she was sure she never would have left. 

It had taken everything in her to ignore her instinct as a mother to stay and protect her son, and leave him to find the help he so desperately needed. 

Once, she would have made the distance in no time, cross country her forte at school and running something she had kept up with year on year with or without a baby in a buggy. She had tried to run initially, knowing before her knee and ankle had protested that she wouldn’t be able to sustain the pace. 

When the night had snuck up on her, she had kept going along the river, refusing to rest until her body forced her to stop. Scott needed her, he needed the help she had promised to bring. She only paused to drink from the fresh flowing water, not daring to pick any of the berries for food after so long of surviving on grey slop. 

The sun had risen through the trees, but her toes had still been cold as she had forced herself on through the frosty ground. She had no idea if it was Autumn or Spring, if the ice in the air would only worsen as the weeks went on. They’d lost track of the days so long ago, deprived of any and all understanding of time. The dappled light through the branches wasn’t enough to warm her, despite the extra layer of Scott’s suit. The rattling in her own chest was worsening with each mile she pushed through, coughing fits forcing her to stop more and more often.

The whine of an engine froze her where she stood, her breath quickening as a flash of red struck through the trees ahead of her, too fast to not be on some kind of track. 

Instinct had her diving for cover against the base of the nearest tree, landing on her broken hand, forcing a cry from her mouth that she hadn’t meant to let slip.

If they had heard her, Lucy knew she would have to fight or die trying. It would be hard, with her joints stiffened and seized in the cold, but Scott was relying on her to get help, she had to get out, to find someone that would get him home to their family. The knife in her pocket felt heavy, its small size belying its significance. She shifted herself carefully, wincing at the pain which shot up her arm as she pulled the blade from its sheath and moved it to her good hand. 

The tickle in her throat warned her of a cough, one she couldn’t suppress. Keeping quiet was impossible as her ribs protested, her whole body screaming out as she screwed her eyes and mouth shut in the hope she hadn’t been found. 

The crack of a stick gave the soldiers away, a whispered, this way , too loud for her to not know that they were coming for her. 

It sounded familiar, comforting, like home and hide-and-seek around the barn. Spring mornings when the boys were up too early and Jeff took them off on quiet adventures to leave her in bed to rest. 

Her breath caught at the thought of her husband, at the very idea of having to tell him how she had left their boy fighting for his breath and his life in that place. She had to, that much she didn’t doubt, but she knew that it would be the last time she would ever be able to look him in the eye.

Hands grabbed her as they had a thousand times before, pulling her from beneath the tree. For the first time in forever, she fought back without consideration for her actions, screaming as loud as her throat would let her as she kicked and flailed. Something caught her wrist with the knife, knocking it back before she could cause any real damage with the blade, her eye caught the glint of metal in the light as it fell to the floor and she knew she needed to get to it. She needed it to fight, to win. They couldn’t take her, she wouldn’t let them.

“Luce! Lucy!” The voice that hurt to hear yelled over her, “Honey, it’s me, stop. It’s Jeff. Listen to me, listen to my voice.”

Hands pinned her arms to her sides, as the words made it through. 

They were English. Unaccented, fluent. American.

She dared to look, to risk seeing what she had longed for. 

“Jeff?”

“It’s me,” He murmured, his hands loosening on her arms, barely holding her up, “I’m here.”

“No.” She pulled away and he let her go, “No, you’re-- I can’t--”

He couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be there. Jeff was safe at home with their other four boys, shielding them from the hell of war. She had to be dead, frozen in the cold of the night despite the layer Scott had sacrificed for her. 

“Luce,” He stepped towards her, one hand outstretched, “it’s okay, I promise, it’s real and I’m here.”

She wanted to reach out, to touch and believe him.

“Eos,” he murmured, “show me my desk at home.”

The hologram immediately popped up at his wrist, sketches and data-pads filling the wooden desk-top, a design they had talked about but she had never gotten as far as drawing. The man had no interest in that though, instead manipulating the view to zoom in on a scrap of paper taped together where it had started to come apart at the folded edges. 

Lucy had all but forgotten about the sketch of their son sitting in the cockpit of his jet.

“You sent that to me, two days before you were taken.” Jeff murmured, “On the back you wrote Cat Zero, --”

“Everything fine.” She echoed at the same time as he finished.

He stepped closer to her again, the hologram closing as he reached out to steady her, “Eos told me about the attack, that they took you and Scott.”

She looked up to him, her body screaming at her to shrink away.

His hair and face were wrong, the grey strands that he dyed religiously standing out against the dark brown, his brow holding more weight than she was used to seeing. The blue-grey eyes were ones she’d know in any lifetime though, ones that would burn the world to protect her and their family. 

“Tell me something?” She whispered, holding those familiar eyes, “Something only you know.”

His eyes softened as warm hands held her arms, his touch delicate and light, like he was scared of breaking her. 

“You hate the first set of earrings I ever got you, you don’t like how the hooks sit in your ears, but you never told me at the time because you knew I’d put so much of my savings towards them.” He swallowed, “It was only years later you told me, when Scott was helping you put on a necklace for our anniversary dinner.”

She sobbed as she grabbed at him, her aching fingers barely finding purchase in his coat as her legs gave way beneath her. 

“Woah,” Jeff caught her, holding her up, pulling her in, “I’ve got you.”

“Jeff.” She sobbed, grasping on to whatever part of him she could reach as he eased them both to the floor, “Jeff it’s-- you’re here.”

“You’re frozen,” He murmured, immediately pulling at his coat as she continued to mutter in disbelief. 

He was there, halfway across the world, ready to burn it to get her home safe. 

Her and one other person.

His hands had stopped as he wrapped the coat around her, fingering the thinned patches on the breast of the flight suit. 

Scott’s flight suit.

“Honey,” He looked right at her, holding her gaze as his hands tightened on her arms, “where’s Scott?”

It was automatic to look back towards the river as she had so many times the previous day. She let the sob rise in her throat that time, no longer required to keep herself hidden from whoever might find her. 

“I left him.” She whispered, looking back to Jeff, “He-- he made me leave.”

Jeff’s hands moved to touch her face, making her flinch away as she sobbed again.

“He--they-- his leg, and-- his chest, I think it’s an infection. You have to get him, he’s hurt, Jeff, and I-- I left him. Please, help him? You-- you have to get him, before they come back. They’ll kill him if they--”

His hands didn’t go to her face again, instead holding her arms, safe, secure, “Where, Luce? Tell me which way?” 

She looked again at the water, “Up the river.”

Jeff looked past her, “Val, get her to safety.”

“Jeff we’ll come back, you can’t go down there alone, we don’t know what you’ll find.”

“No! You can’t-- don’t-- don’t leave him!” Lucy begged, ignoring the black spots in her vision. 

They needed to know, to understand, Scott was so close. They had to get to him, to save him. He needed to get home, to his little brothers, and tell them the stories of an adventure.

She’d promised him she’d go back.

“Luce. Lucy.” Jeff’s hands were secure against her shoulders as she gasped out for breath, her lungs not doing their job, “Honey, it’s okay. I’m going to get him, okay? I’ll bring him home. I’ll make sure he’s safe.”

She reached out, searching for his hands, “Promise?”

“I swear.”

That look was back in his eyes, the determination that would see the rest of the world set alight if it meant Jeff Tracy getting what he wanted. It was what she loved about him. 

She knew she could trust him, Jeff would get their son home.

His cry for her was the last thing she heard as she looked up to the emerald green of the pine trees and saw the sky before the black consumed her.

Chapter Text

“How about we get you up on the bed?”

Lucy didn’t want the bed. She wanted her husband, and her doctor. Whilst she had refused to make any definitive plans for the birth of her first child, she had at least been sure of who she had wanted there. 

The young female doctor that was insisting she got up on the bed had not been included on that list.

“I can only examine you properly up on the bed, Mrs Tracy.”

“Then get me a damn doctor that can examine me where I am, Doctor Agnew, because on the bed felt like the worst place in the world five minutes ago a--” She grit her teeth as another contraction started, rocking carefully on the medicine ball as Val supported her, “and I sure as hell think that-- Jeff!”

She’d sent him out when they had both gotten short tempered from lack of sleep, insisting he go and burn off some excess energy in the twenty-four hour gym on base. Neither of them had considered the fact that her fake contractions could actually be real ones, that her own restlessness was down to the early stages of labour and not overtiredness. 

Val had been trying to contact him since Lucy’s water had broken on her doorstep.

Finally, he was there. Still in his gym sweats, looking slightly terrified as he strode past the doctor to crouch at Lucy’s side with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Where the hell were you?” She hissed, taking his offered hand in place of Val’s and squeezing tight.

“Training with Lee.” He murmured, leaning across to kiss her hair as his arm wrapped around her shoulders in a careful hug, “Now, what were you saying to the doctor?”

Agnew stepped forward clearing his throat, “Mrs Tracy would be far more comfortable up on the bed.”

“No,” She grit out, reaching for Jeff with her other hand as she rocked forward, “I won’t be.”

Jeff took her weight easily, holding her comfortably at the angle she needed even as he turned to address the doctor. She knew she didn’t need to listen as the muscles across her lower body started to tighten, her husband would determine what was necessary from what was wanted. He’d make sure she got what she felt she needed whilst keeping her and their baby safe based on what the professionals said. 

Sally had said to listen to her body, that she would know what to do when the time came and she just had to be able to listen to herself. Doctor Gregor had said similar, had promised that Lucy would be listened to and able to make her own choices on what felt right as the labour progressed. 

Jeff was telling Agnew as much, standing the ground that Lucy had set when she had started the argument with the woman. She didn’t need arguments though, she needed her husband to hold onto her like he had when he’d first swept into the room, she needed to move, to stand up and shift. 

“Help me?” She murmured, cutting into whatever Jeff had been saying. His attention shifted immediately, his hands catching both of her arms as she shifted to stand. 

“Where to, darlin’?”

A glance at Agnew told her that the doctor was still hoping to get her on the bed. 

“I just need to move.” She sighed, looking around for Val, “Where’d Val Go?”

Jeff helped her walk the width of the room, gently supporting her as he kept himself between her and the doctor.

“Went to find some snacks, and maybe some ice chips.” He murmured, tucking her hair back, “Do you want me to ask her for anything else?”

Lucy shook her head as she pulled away from him, reaching for the armchair as her legs lost their strength. He followed her down to the floor, making sure she didn’t fall as they went. His hand stayed on her back as her head fell to rest against the seat of the chair, the leathery plastic cool against her cheek. 

“What do you need darlin’?” 

She closed her eyes, groaning as muscles tightened, knowing something felt different to before. 

“I need to push.” She answered, seeking out his hand.

“Sounds like I got here right in time then.” Doctor Gregor’s voice drew her attention, easing something in the pit of her stomach. 

A conversation happened over her head as Jeff rubbed her back and Lucy continued to rock herself on her knees. He asked again about the bed and if it was strictly necessary, Gregor confirmed in the negative, and some unkind words were thrown at Agnew. She didn’t really care where the other doctor went, as long as she had Jeff and doctor Gregor, that had been the plan. 

“So, Lucy,” Gregor asked as they crouched next to her, “Are you ready to have this baby?”

She glanced to Jeff, squeezing his hand lightly as she swallowed hard. 

“Yeah,” She nodded, “we’re ready.”

~

Everything hurting was the first thing she became aware of, the entirety of her body one big ache from her neck to her ankles. 

The bed being soft, if a little cool, was the second thing. 

The third was that there was something in her mouth, down her throat. 

“Luce?”

She knew that voice, knew it meant safety and comfort. The man behind it would do anything for her. 

But there was something in her throat, something that was stopping her from breathing. 

Her hands ached as they reached for the hard plastic, her fingers on her left side not cooperating as she tried to reach up. 

“Shit, no, Lucy, honey, stop.” 

The same voice again, urgent, worried. 

For her?

She needed to breathe. She was choking against the tube, she needed to fight against whatever was holding her back. 

“Honey, open your eyes, please? Just for a second, just look at me.”

His hand was in her hair, fingertips light and gentle as they massaged the line of her scalp. She knew she should listen, if she looked, he would be there for her. 

“There you are.” He breathed, smiling down to her, “It’s okay, I know it’s uncomfortable. Don’t fight it though, okay? The doctors are coming, just relax, alright?”

Jeff .

Jeff was there, he was telling her it was okay. He was right, it was uncomfortable, she couldn’t help but try to cough against the tube, the sensation making everything ache worse. She wanted to listen to him, wanted everything to finally be okay. 

Tears stung her eyes as she screwed them shut, not sure that everything was okay.

“I know,” He murmured, his hand gently squeezing the fingers of her right fist, “but you’re doing so well honey, you’re doing great.”

She forced her eyes open again, looking straight at him as a sob caught in her throat. Her fingers loosened, twisting until they could entwine with his, ensuring wordlessly that he wouldn’t leave her. 

“I’m here.” He nodded, swallowing hard as his eyes glossed over with his own tears, “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. You’re doing so well Luce.”

“Colonel Tracy, we need you to step back please.”

He glanced over his shoulder, his jaw setting as Lucy forced her hand to tighten around his. 

“I’m not leaving her.”

“You don’t have to, sir. Just--”

“Hey Lucy,” A younger voice cut them off, “I’m nurse Tam, and I see you’re pretty attached to your husband there.”

She could barely nod, but the nurse seemed to get the message.

“Doctor Kay is going to take that tube out for you in just a mo,” Tam told her, “but can your husband just move down the way a little bit to give us some room? He can still hold your hand, that’s all good.”

Jeff moved further away down the bed, his fingers still linked with hers as he shuffled out of the way of the doctor. 

“Great, now, when we say, we just need a good breath out, okay?” Tam instructed gently as she started to fiddle around Lucy’s face, “I’m just going to undo this first.”

She wanted to flinch away, to escape whatever it was the nurse was doing. There was nowhere for her to go though, nowhere to escape to when everything hurt so much. 

Jeff’s thumb soothed lightly over the palm of her hand, his calloused skin familiar and comforting. 

He wouldn’t let them hurt her. He would keep her safe. 

She gagged as they pulled the tube, sinking back into the pillows as she gasped out for a clean breath. Jeff was immediately back beside her, his fingers back against her scalp as he pressed the backs of her fingers to her lips. 

“ Jeff .” she whispered, not sure she was capable of anything more. 

“You’re safe.” He murmured, “We’re in London. You’re going to be fine.” 

She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come as the aches consumed her.

***

“Scott.” Was the first thing she choked out as she pushed herself upright in the bed, ignoring the hands that grabbed at her as she pushed them away. 

Scott had been hurt and she’d left him. 

She’d left him with a gun and a hope, and she hadn’t gone back. 

“Lucy, it’s okay.”

Her eyes landed on her husband, his hands outstretched towards her.

“Jeff.” She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, “Where’s Scott? Is he--”

“Look,” Jeff cut her off, stepping back as he looked across the room, “he’s right here.” 

His form was still, pale, and thin under the blankets. There was a tube down his throat as there had been in hers, but the monitors above him showed a beating heart and even breaths. 

“He’s alive, Luce,” Jeff murmured softly, dipping his head to meet her eye, “he’s doing well.”

Her right hand reached blindly for her husband, needing something solid to hold onto as she watched each smooth rise and fall of her son’s chest. 

“Help me?” She whispered, a tightness wrapping around her with each of her son’s breaths, “Jeff, I need-- please, help me-- let me--”

“Hey,” he soothed, stepping in front of her, holding her shoulders lightly, “just take a breath for me Luce, okay? Let me move the chair, then I’ll help you over.”

She nodded, blinking away the tears that stung her eyes as she watched him move the chair around to Scott’s bedside before he returned to her. 

“Kay is going to have my hide for this.” He uttered as he pressed buttons on one of the machines at her bedside before unhooking her from the lines attaching her to it. 

His hands were gentle as he pulled the sheets away from her body, his touch cautious as he scooped under her legs and behind her back. She grasped at his sweatshirt, grateful to just be near him as he carried her over to the chair and carefully set her down in it. He didn’t move away, perching on the arm of the seat and reaching across to draw Scott’s hand from where it lay on the mattress. 

“Hey Scotty,” She whispered as she took his hand from Jeff, swallowing the lump in her throat that distorted her words, “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you, but I’m here now, okay?”

Jeff’s hand was light on her shoulder, drawing her attention up to him even as her neck throbbed in protest. She could feel the pulse in Scott’s wrist as she looked away from him, strong and steady, alive.

“He knows.” Her husband murmured, “I made sure he knew you were safe, I promised I’d bring him to you.”

She looked back to Scott, to the healthy, even rise and fall of his chest. He’d gotten them both out. Despite everything, Scott had survived and so had she. 

“You were right,” Jeff continued softly, “he had a pretty nasty chest infection that triggered pneumonia. Kay said that he’s fighting it well though, and that the tube could probably come out in a few days.”

She tensed at her own memory, “Not like--”

“No.” Jeff soothed instantly, his hand shifting slightly from her shoulder in an aborted movement, “Not like earlier, I promise, I made sure of it.”

“Earlier?” She frowned, looking up to him, “I--”

His smile was soft as he drew his hand from her shoulder to reach for a strand of hair, instinct made her flinch away, averting her gaze as she looked back to Scott. She knew looking at him wouldn’t be seen as a challenge, but looking away was easier than seeing the hurt she knew would flash in his eyes at the rejection of his touch.

“You only slept for a couple of hours since you woke up this morning.” He told her as his hand hovered over hers in her lap.

She frowned at her left hand as she reached out to her husband, the splint over her fingers halting any movement. Next to her, she felt him shift, his hand that had hovered slowly reaching to take her offered hand and bring it up to his lips, kissing the tape holding her fingers in place with the smallest of smiles.

As she twisted to look back to him again the clock on the wall caught her eye, a large digital thing with the date underneath in block capitals. 

April 4th .

“It’s his birthday.”

Under her fingers his heart kept beating, steady and sure.

Jeff sighed as he shifted off of the seat to kneel on the floor in front of her, “You’ve both been here a couple of weeks, your bodies need a chance to recover.”

None of that she cared about. 

She loved all of her boys equally, but Scott had been her first. Her pregnancy with him had come a short six weeks after their wedding, and each of the months had felt like the longest of her life individually. 

Together though, the nine months had flown in and her blue-eyed baby boy had come into the world at four minutes past five in the morning. 

It had been late July when she had fallen pregnant with him. 

Late July had been when they had both shipped out to France. 

“Nine months.” She whispered, pursing her lips as tears escaped, “Jeff, has it really…”

Nine of the longest months of her life, that together felt like absolutely no time at all. So much had happened, so much had changed, so much she had missed. 

“I’m sorry.” Jeff murmured, covering her and Scott’s hands with both of his own, “I should have found you sooner.”

She shook her head, wincing as it throbbed at the movement. Everything suddenly felt heavy, Scott’s hand a weight in hers as she sank back in the chair, not sure how much longer she’d be able to support her own weight. 

“I knew you’d come.” She sighed, letting her eyes rest closed as they too became heavy, “We both did.”

Even when she’d told Eos not to let him see the footage, she had known he would fight it. He was Jeff Tracy, a man that let nothing stand in his way when it came to his family. So many times over those months she had looked at her son with his jaw set and anger in his eyes and she had seen his father. 

Forcing her eyes to open so she could look at her boy again, she felt something loosen in her chest. Gone was the tension that had lined every inch of his body, the set of his jaw was soft under the beard that had been trimmed back into some semblance of tidy. His brow was softened, the lines that had seemed like they had been permanently etched there, smoothed out under his hair. 

“He was so strong, Jeff.” She whispered, “You should be proud of him, of our son, the Captain.”

“Oh Luce,” The rawness of his voice as he squeezed both their hands drew her eyes back to where he knelt before her, “I am , darlin’. I’m so proud of you both , of how strong you’ve both been, of how hard you’ve both fought.”

His hand went to reach for her face, drawing back in realisation before she felt the need to flinch away. His lips pursed for a moment before he took her splinted fingers from her lap, each touch slow and delicate.

“Lucy, promise me something?” He murmured, his eyes soft in a way she recognised from whenever he couldn’t immediately help her, “If I do anything that makes you scared or uncomfortable, will you tell me? Please?”

She took a breath, wincing as it pulled in her chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

It was Jeff, her husband. The man that had held her on the darkest days, and laughed with her on the brightest. The man that had held her hand through the birth of four out of their five boys and promised her each time that everything would be okay. The man that had set her loose into the corporate side of engineering and pushed her to spread her wings. 

The man that adored and worshiped every fiber of her being, and who had never been anything other than gentle towards her. 

She didn’t fear him. 

“ Lucy .” He whispered, shifting from where he was kneeling into a crouch, his hands over each of hers. 

“Scott needs you.” She swallowed, shifting her fingers against his pulse. She would be fine, if she could just push through the exhaustion, she could keep going. 

Scott though, he would need his father’s support, the figure that had been able to protect the boys through all their lives. Jeff had never failed him, had never left him.

“Honey, can you look at me?”

She could, because she wanted to, because he was safe and she loved him. 

He leveled with her, the grey-blue of his eyes still soft but with a hardened edge she hadn’t noticed until he had held her gaze. 

“All our boy asked for was you,” He told her, “all he wanted was his Mom.”

Her own lip trembled as she looked to her son, wishing she could pretend that he was simply sleeping, “He did?”

“Of course he did.” Jeff nodded, “Lucy, you’re his mother , and nothing that happens will ever change how he needs you, how we all need you.”

Releasing Scott’s hand from her own, she took Jeff’s hand, holding on tight as she blinked against the sting of tears in her eyes. 

“But right now,” Jeff continued, softer as he bent closer, not quite touching his forehead to hers, “Scott is resting and you’re the one sitting here trying to be strong.”

She closed the distance, bumping her head lightly to his as she let the tears fall. 

Everything ached, her neck, her shoulders, her ribs, her wrist, each a steady constant burn that lingered deep in muscle and bone. The pain should have been fine, she could deal with long hours of being sore and uncomfortable, she knew she could. 

“I don’t feel strong right now.” She whispered, closing her eyes.

“You don’t have to be, darlin’.” Jeff murmured back, one hand running lightly up her left arm to her shoulder, “You never have to be strong for me, but I do need you to tell me what you need, how I can help. Please?”

Her splinted fingers tried to grip as her breath shook. Everything was meant to be better, they were safe, Jeff had her and she was safe. Scott was alive, in the same room as her, breathing and recovering. 

So why did everything still hurt so damn much?

“Everything hurts.” She admitted on a heavy breath, her voice catching on the words as she let herself look back at him, “Jeff, I-- I just…all I wanted was for Scott to get home safe.”

She hadn’t thought about what would come after, not for herself. 

She’d thought of Scott being looked after by their family, thought of them all supporting him, caring for him. 

“You got him home, Luce.” Jeff glanced across to him before refocussing on her, both of his hands holding her securely, “Now it’s time to look after you. No more being strong just to save him, okay? You need to come home too.”

It had never seemed like a feasible option for them both to get out. In the back of her mind it had always been inevitable that one of them would have to be left behind in that place. 

As a mother, she had been determined to save her son. 

“You’re both here, Lucy.” Jeff whispered, “You’re both alive.”

Her whole frame shook as she clung to him, not sure she was ready for what came next. 

“I love you darlin’.” Jeff continued softly, watching the tears in her eyes, “You’ve been so strong, but it’s okay now, I’ve got you and I’ve got Scott, you’re both safe. You can let me carry it all for a minute.”

The sob caught her off guard at his words, the assurance loosening something she hadn’t realised she had been holding onto.

She was also safe. She was also alive. She had escaped as well. 

Jeff had told her they were in London, half a continent away from that place. Scott was with them, just as alive, just as safe. 

They had both made it.  

“Jeff?” She choked out on the next sob, the ache in her chest persisting with the sound, “Jeff, don’t-- don’t let go? P-please?”

His hand on her shoulder slipped carefully down her back as his other hand slipped up over the ache of her left arm. 

“Can I move you back to bed?” He asked, “You’ll be more comfortable.” 

She sniffled as she nodded, grasping on blindly to whichever part of him she could reach. Each sob rattled her chest, deepening the ache that had settled there when she had first woken up. Her own tears were hot on her face, the room around her feeling cold against the thin hospital gown. Jeff’s hands were warm where he scooped her up, his body radiating heat that Lucy knew she didn’t need, but sought out anyway as she curled against him. 

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, his lips brushing her hair as he crossed the room with her, “You’re okay darlin’.” 

Her hands around his neck didn’t let go as he set her down, her voice lost between sobs as she tried to find the words to ask for what she needed. 

“I’m here.” He shifted his stance, moving to keep her in his arms as he sat back on the mattress, “I’ve got you Luce.” 

Jeff knew, as he always did when the words wouldn’t come and everything was just too much. He understood without her needing to ask him to not let go. She knew he would stay, even if it was long after her tears dried up. It was one of the many ways he showed her his love, one of the thousands of reasons that she loved him. 

“It’s alright,” He soothed quietly against her hair, one hand running lightly over her back, “you don’t have to be strong now.”

As she held onto him and sobbed, Lucy wasn’t sure she would ever feel strong again.

Chapter Text

Jeff hadn’t expected anyone to be home. The boys were all taking an extended stay at their maternal grandparents, allowing Lucy the chance to only worry about herself and the baby. 

From the calls he’d been getting since landing back on Earth, he knew there was plenty of worry going around. 

Eleven weeks before his due date, Gordon Cooper had made a dramatic entrance into the world. Val had been there to hold Lucy’s hand, but Jeff had been closer to Mars than Earth when the call had come in. 

A million miles away, he hadn’t been able to do anything for either his wife or son except pray that they would survive until he got home. 

Huston had provided updates daily, likely in the hope that they would keep him focussed on getting back to Earth. They had hardly felt like enough though, the pictures and words meaning little when he wasn’t there to support the rest of his family. It had taken the shine off of their achievements in the weeks prior, being the first man on Mars meant little when those he loved were hurting. 

The confinement for the week after landing home had been the worst, so close, and with unlimited contact with the rest of the world, it had felt like torture to not be able to go to her. 

Finally though, he had come home, and found his wife on her knees at the foot of the stairs.

He had swept her up, not daring to question what had brought her home when she had spent every waking hour with their fourth son, as she had cried into his shoulder. 

“I needed to get out.” She had admitted after he had managed to calm her, “Jeff, I’m exhausted, I needed my bed and my bath and…”

Assuring her that it was fine came as second nature, even when she had insisted that she shouldn’t have abandoned Gordon alone in the hospital. 

“You did what you needed, you need to look after yourself too, Honey.”

Once he had coaxed her to bed and fired a text off to Val to check in on her in a few hours, Jeff had headed to the hospital and introduced himself as the father. 

The sight of the little boy in the incubator wouldn’t be one he thought he would ever forget. Not when he knew that the boy had been so much smaller when he had first arrived in the world, not when his hand barely fit around Jeff’s little finger, not when bright amber eyes the echo of his mother’s stared back at him.

“Hey little man,” He whispered, “I’m your Daddy. Sorry it took me a minute to get here, but you’ve done a great job of being strong and brave for your Momma.”

He pulled the chair around to sit down in, smiling at how the amber eyes seemingly tracked his movements. 

“She’s gone to take a break though, okay? So you’re stuck with me for a while, and whilst I need you to keep fighting, it’s okay if you’re not feeling so strong or brave. I’m here now, I can take it for a while.”

Settling forward, he watched the baby, happy to simply be back on Earth in his presence. He was alive, doing well despite his early start in life. It was hard to know for certain, but he was sure that the tiny hand around his finger squeezed as if to tell him that it was okay, that the tiny baby didn’t mind being strong.

“You’re a Tracy, Gordon,” He smiled through the plastic, “and we’re as strong as they come.”

~

“Kay will have your hide.” 

“My mother is a trauma surgeon, Tam, Kay doesn’t scare me.”

Jeff’s voice was soft, pitched low in the well practised manner they had both used when the boys had been tiny. 

“You could have at least hooked her back up to the monitors.”

“I didn’t want to disturb her, she needs her rest.” 

His body was still warm against hers, his arms comfortably heavy around her. He’d held her the same way a thousand times, whenever she’d felt scared or sore, or if he just felt like holding on to her without any real reason at all. 

“Yet you helped her out of bed anyway.”

Jeff’s laugh was soft as his fingers scratched lightly against her scalp, combing through her hair in a way he knew their whole family loved. 

“There’s something you should know about my family, Tam,”

“What’s that?”

“If they want to do something, they’ll do it, whether you help them or not.”

A clip was carefully placed over a finger on her right hand, a machine above them starting a steady rhythmic beeping. Jeff’s hand left her knee, his body shifting to reach for something before the beeping was silenced. 

“Those are my favourite kind of patients.”

“My mom said we’re the worst.”

“Oh the doctors would agree, but that’s just because they have to tell you all to rest up. If you ask me, ignoring directions is a good thing, it means they’re fighting to get better.”

Jeff didn’t respond, his hand that was combing through her hair stilling as he sighed, his lips pressing lightly to the skin of her forehead. 

“She said she was hurting before,” He cleared his throat, “aching I think. Can you give her anything to help?”

“Sure thing, I’ll talk to Kay about it.”

“Not morphine.” He added, “Not without an anti-sickness.”

“Noted.”

Lucy wanted to thank him, even when she knew she didn’t need to. He would just tell her it was his job, what he was there to do, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t matter. 

It mattered so much. 

“Scott’s vitals are looking good. His oh two stats are -- oh no you don’t mister--”

“What is it?”

“Look.”

Lucy wanted to, she really did. She wanted to look and see what had made Jeff tense up, what had startled an uneven breath from him. Everything was so heavy though, her arms and eyes refusing to cooperate with what she wanted.

“He’s waking up, Luce, he’s holding onto Tam’s hand. I told you he wanted to see you.”

“I don’t think he’s going to jump up like his Mom did, I’ll grab Kay and we’ll get him extubated though.”

Scott was waking up, fighting whatever drugs they had him on. It hadn’t felt real when Jeff had assured her that he was doing well, that he was strong and fighting to get better. Hearing from the nurse that he was strong enough to breathe on his own, that they could trust him enough for that next step in his recovery still didn’t quite seem like it could be true. 

“I’m gonna go over there,” Jeff murmured, “okay?”

A humm of a confirmation was about all she could force out, but he understood regardless, shifting to leave her on the bed as he slipped away. She won the fight with her eyelids as he leant over her to press a kiss to her hair and pulled the thin blanket up over her, and watched as he crossed to Scott’s bed.

Jeff looked over to her as he perched on the edge of Scott’s mattress, his smile small and gentle, “I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Her eyes were already drooping, fighting against her want to stay awake. She wanted to see what happened for herself, see if Scott woke up and tell him that everything was okay, that he’d saved them both. 

“Luce,” Jeff murmured, “I’ve got this shift, I promise.”

It was the same thing he’d said to her years before, when Scott had been tiny and Jeff himself had been fresh out of the sky. She hadn’t been able to help but linger when he had taken a night feed, too used to being the one that their baby had needed. 

When exhaustion had hit hard, Jeff had managed to convince her that she was allowed to rest whilst he looked after the little one.

She knew she could trust him to do the same, twenty three years later. 

When her eyes won the battle, she didn’t fight to open them again. 

***

Scott knew what had happened. 

He knew he’d been feverish when he had heard footsteps on the floor above him, and that he’d barely been able to see straight enough to aim one of the guns his mother had left for him. 

He knew it had been his father that had come for him with assurances that Aunt Val had Mom and was getting her to safety. 

He knew Dad would keep his promise, that he would take Scott to safety too, that he would take him to Mom. 

So when he had opened his eyes, he had known Dad would be there, but it hadn’t been him he had been worried for. 

“Mom?” He choked out, blinking hard against the bright lighting of the room, feeling like he knew where she should have been. 

“I’m here, Scotty, I’m right here.”

Her voice was soft but rough, thick from either disuse or sleep. The gap between his bed and the other one in the room felt like miles, even if it was only a few feet. 

Mom was there though, looking as shattered as he felt. The dark circles around her eyes were more pronounced than they had seemed in that place, the bright lights of the room washed her out leaving her skin looking pale and paper thin. Her left arm resting across her stomach was in a splint stretching up to her fingers and holding them straight. 

But she was alive. 

Alive and awake, breathing and smiling across at him.

“You’re both okay, son.” Dad murmured from further down Scott’s bed, his hand clasped tightly around Scott’s, “You’re both safe.”

His lower leg was heavy where it was propped up on top of a set of pillows, and his ribs and arms both still ached. His own throat was raw and dry, his lips sore and chapped as he tried to dampen them. He still felt warm, the gown and blankets around him just a little too suffocating where they should have been comfortable. 

None of it felt like it quite mattered, not in comparison to a single, simple fact that kept racing through his head in time with the pulse of his heart.

Both-safe. Both-safe. Both-safe.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” Dad’s voice was soft, pitched just so to carry across the room, “you’ve both been so strong, so brave.”

Scott pulled his gaze from his mother, turning to his father and realising just how old he looked. 

Grey peppered his hair in a way that Scott wasn’t used to, he knew the man kept a stash of hair dye in the top drawer of the dresser in their bedroom and that it only ever got taken out when the kids were in school. His eyes looked almost as dark as Mom’s did, heavy with a weight Scott wasn’t sure he had seen there since the avalanche. There was stubble along the line of his jaw, barely a five o’clock shadow really, but enough to throw Scott off when he knew his father was religiously clean shaven. 

It reminded Scott that he and Mom hadn’t been the only ones going through hell, that when he hadn’t found them a way out, it hadn’t been just themselves that had been hurt.

“I tried.” He whispered, “‘m sorry, Dad, I--”

“No, Scott.” he shifted up the bed closer to him, glancing across to Mom before he took a careful hold of Scott’s face with the palm of his hand, “You did . Okay? There was no trying, you fought, and you survived.”

But they had still hurt Mom. He hadn’t stopped them each time they had come for her, after a while he had stopped fighting them and let it happen. 

“But, Mom-” He swallowed the lump that threatened in his throat, “I didn’t--”

“Yeah you did.” She nodded slowly, “Maybe not with your hands, kiddo, but you fought to live . You, Captain Tracy, fought to keep us both alive.”

Dad’s thumb was light as it soothed under Scott’s eye, catching the tears that stung and burned against his skin as they escaped. 

“You did what was needed, Captain, you got our Sergeant out of there, and you survived.” 

He screwed his eyes shut, forcing back the tears as his Dad leant forward over him to press a kiss to his head. A Captain wouldn’t cry at the praise, wouldn’t let his superiors see his tears that flooded his eyes for no reason. 

“Son,” Dad’s voice was soft, just between the pair of them, as his hand squeezed Scott’s lightly, “it’s okay, you don’t have to be a Captain right now.”

Looking up, he met his father’s eyes. 

Dad had been a Captain once, had worked his way up from that rank and left the forces as a well decorated Colonel. He had looked after his men, saved lives that others hadn’t deemed worth saving. 

Dad knew. 

And he was saying it was okay. 

“ Dad .” He sobbed as strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him up from the mattress and holding on tight and gentle.

“I’ve got you, son, you’re alright.”

He wanted to hold on, to find a grip on his Dad’s shirt and never let go, but his arms wouldn’t co-operate. Everything was heavy and his head hurt so much. 

He didn’t want to be a Captain, just for a little while. He wanted to be Scott Tracy, son to Lucille and Jefferson, big brother to four of the peskiest, most annoying, but amazing younger brothers. He wanted to go home and be with his family and help Alan and Gordon with their homework and his parents with the housework. He wanted to go for a run around the farm, and sit and debate with John whilst he listened to Virgil’s music on the piano. He wanted to be held by his parents like he had been when he was little as they had told him stories of great heroes like the indigenous Thunderbird. 

He wanted to be everything that Captain Tracy wasn’t. 

“It’s okay,” Dad soothed, “you’ve been so strong Scotty, I’ve got it now, it’s okay.”

If his Dad said it was okay, he knew from experience that he could believe him. 

Safely in his father’s arms, he knew it was okay to let that part of himself go. Dad would look after Mom, make sure she was safe and looked after. He’d protect them both, like he always did when something scary happened. He never needed Scott to pretend to be fine, had told him once that it was okay for him to worry about his family but that didn’t mean that he had to be strong and brave all the time too. 

“You can rest, son. It’s all going to be okay.”

Dad was always right, so Scott closed his eyes, and rested. 

***

Jeff leant down to kiss his son’s hair again as he rested him back against the pillows, his face slack in a dreamless sleep that he hoped lasted. He looked young again, like the weight of the world had never found itself upon his shoulders, even when Jeff knew it had. 

Behind him he could still feel Lucy’s eyes watching them, he knew she wouldn’t rest until he convinced her to. Both of them had been dependent on one-another for so long, hadn’t known anything but each other’s company for a long nine months. 

It felt cruelly ironic.

Twenty three years and somehow they had all landed back in the same place. A different hospital, admittedly, but a single room with mother and son each in their own beds, both learning how to be such a small distance apart. 

“Happy birthday, son.” He sighed, brushing the strands of hair back from his face, absently wondering if he would choose to cut it shorter. 

Standing from the bed, he turned back to Lucy, only hesitating for a moment to see if she reacted before he leant over to kiss her hair. 

Her smile was soft, but her eyes were still on their sleeping son, just as they had been all those years before. 

“He’s okay.” Jeff assured softly, letting his fingers comb lightly through her hair, “You can rest.”

“Our baby’s all grown up.” She glanced up to him, her eyes full of unshed tears, “When did that happen, Jeff?”

“I wish I knew, darlin’.” He sighed, following her look across to Scott’s bed, “He still loves his Momma though, and his brothers. That’s not ever gonna change.”

He watched as her eyes flickered, her hand against the covers growing slack. It was a mild surprise that she had lasted as long as she had when the exhaustion had still been evident in all of her features. The painkillers Tam had eventually brought seemed to be doing their job though, her jaw softer and her frown less evident as she let her eyes rest closed. 

“Happy birthday baby.” 

Jeff lifted her hand from the sheets, kissing the tops of her fingers lightly as he sighed, “Thank you for bringing him home, Luce.”

He wasn’t sure how much later it was when Val slipped into the room, her smile kind as she raised an eyebrow at his position between the two beds with both his wife and son in easy view. 

Judging from the way his back protested as he sat straighter, it had probably been a while.

“How are they doing?” She asked softly as she looked over her god-son.

Jeff sighed, “They’re hurtin’ Val, in ways I don’t know how to fix.”

She looked tired too, like she’d been up for as many hours as Jeff had. He wasn’t sure just where she’d been, if she’d been working or relaxing. From her clothes he could guess it had been work, Val hated the shirts she had to wear as part of her uniform, was always quick to swap them out for an old t-shirt when she was off duty. 

She straightened, pulling her phone from her pocket and typing on it quickly. 

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving a note.” She looked up to him as she set the phone by Lucy’s bed where either of them would have been able to see it, “We’re taking a walk.”

Shaking his head, Jeff tightened his hand around Lucy’s, “Val I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” She looked to Lucy, nodding in satisfaction, “trust me, it might even be beneficial.”

There wouldn’t be any fighting with her, not if she’d already decided she was getting him out of that room one way or another. He did owe her after all, for helping him find a way into Bereznik, for listening to him when he insisted she take Lucy to safety whilst he went after Scott. 

“Eos,” He swallowed, shifting to stand from his seat, “contact me if anything changes.”

Val’s smile was far too smug as she held the door for him.

Chapter Text

Val knew Lucy had wanted her in the delivery room, knew that she would soon be a god-mother to the baby that was about to be born. 

It had been harder than she had expected though, seeing her best friend uncomfortable and sore with no real way to do anything to help. Holding her hand didn’t exactly do much for her or for the baby. 

So as soon as Jeff had finally appeared, she had slipped out and headed to the little shop down the hall for snacks. 

It still hadn’t exactly felt like enough, not when Lucy was pushing an entire baby out of her body. She would need the energy though, and Val knew exactly what treats she had been craving her entire pregnancy. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something more than standing by in a room that already had too many people.

“You military?” The older man at the till had asked as he had tapped the bananas into the register.

“Air Force.” She smiled, “Here for a friend.”

He smiled knowingly to her, nodding as he scanned the cookies, “Gets kinda a lot in there, huh?”

Val blew out a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding, nodding slightly in admission as she glanced over her shoulder.

“Can an old man give you some advice?” 

It wasn’t like she had to listen to whatever he had to say. 

“Take it from a man that’s seen it all from behind this counter, being there will mean more to her than you realise, even if you don’t think you’re doing much.” He pulled a bar of chocolate from the display next to him, “I bet you called the rest of the family and told them the news, huh? Did the father grab her hospital bag, or was that you? And who’s here right now getting something for her to enjoy later?”

He didn’t scan the bar as he added it to the bag with the rest of the snacks, raising a knowing eyebrow as Val laughed softly. 

“You don’t have to be right next to her to make a difference.” He smiled as Val tapped her card to the machine, “Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you.” She nodded as she took the bag, “I won’t.”

~

When Lucy had gone into labor for the very first time Jeff had been on base, training with Lee. He hadn’t realised his phone had fallen out of his pocket until their Commanding Officer had stormed into the gym and started yelling on Lucy’s behalf. 

He’d at least been good enough to give Jeff a lift to the hospital, where he had found his wife yelling at a doctor who had tried to insist she get onto the bed as she would find it more comfortable. Twenty Three years later, he could still feel the glow of pride in his chest at just how she had stood her ground, even as a contraction had broken her words. He hadn’t hesitated in taking over the argument as he had crossed the room to stand at her side, and the doctor had quickly backed down. 

There hadn’t been much else for him to do as he held her hand and rubbed her back, the midwives told him every time that it was enough, but every time he felt like he should have been doing more.

Before he had known it, Scott had come into the world kicking and screaming, his lungs clear and his eyes a bright mirror of Jeff’s own. He’d handed the bundle over to Lucy and known it would be a fight to take the baby back from her as she cooed at him. He had recognised the look of adoration as she had sunk back on the bed, and known that her heart suddenly belonged to two of them.

When Jeff had spotted Lucy in the forest, he hadn’t immediately recognised her. When he had gone to the woman on the floor, curled up against the roots of the massive pine tree, he had thought it had been a civilian trying to escape their country and get to the safety of the border.

He had thought his touch had been gentle as he had reached out for her, but she had screamed and fought regardless. 

It had only been when her foot had kicked out at his leg that he had been able to place the colour of her hair and the thinned out shape of her face, and he had recognised her. 

It had taken a long moment before he’d been able to find his voice, before he’d been able to swallow back the nausea at what they had done to her and find a way to get through to her. 

When he had found Scott in the basement of the run-down cottage four hours walk further up the river, he had stared down the barrel of a gun and hoped that his son would see who he was. 

Scott had sobbed as soon as Jeff had spoken, dropping the gun to the floor as he had reached out with one arm towards him. Jeff hadn’t hesitated in stepping over the bodies, had only paused to call for help and send coordinates to Hugh, before he had wrapped his son up in Val’s coat and let him sob into the waterproof fabric. 

“I should have got him a present.” Val mused as they passed one of the small shops on that floor of the hospital. 

She hadn’t dragged him far, only one hallway over, where a cafeteria and coffee shop served both staff and visitors. There weren’t any gifts, not in a military hospital, but Jeff knew that hadn’t been Val’s point. 

“He wasn’t meant to wake up today.” He told her as he smelled the coffee that was too strong and too bitter. 

“Typical Tracy dramatics.” Val shrugged as she sipped her tea, “He got it from you, I’m sure.”

Jeff eyed her, knowing she had dragged him from the room with a point to be made. Val wasn’t family, but she might as well have been. Jeff had known her since they had met on their first day of school, both of them bonding over a love of planes and flying. Then, it had been Val that had brought Lucy into their circle during high school, when her family had relocated from Nevada and she had been the new girl. 

Val had been the one to set them up, had called them both out on their bullshit more times than Jeff could count. She refused to fix things that were broken, she rightly insisted it wasn’t her job, but was always happy to provide the tools and help hold things if they got heavy. 

“Quickest labor of all five of them,” He nodded smiling just slightly at the memory, “and I’m sure he screamed the loudest too.”

“Oh he sure did,” Val grinned in return when Jeff frowned across at her, “I was there too that day don’t forget, before you were if I remember.”

He folded his arms as he sunk back in his seat, “Lucy sent me out to the gym with Lee.”

“Yeah, yeah, but that doesn’t matter, what does matter is what Lucy was doing.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Giving birth?”

“Before you got there,” Val rolled her eyes, not giving him a chance to answer again, “she was being a boss ass lady, did she listen when the doctors told her to lie on the bed?”

Jeff smiled to himself, remembering how stunned the obgyn had been, “No.”

“Damn straight,” Val grinned as she sat forward, poking Jeff in the knee as she did, “she told that doctor to shove her advice where the sun doesn’t shine. She knew what she needed, she knew to listen to her body. She knew every single time she gave birth just what she needed to do.”

Jeff sat forward to meet her, frowning as he thought through her words. The coffee hadn’t made it as far as his brain yet. He knew he wasn’t firing on all cylinders, that he hadn’t had enough sleep to join all of the dots that she was providing. 

So, he did what he knew would get him back to his wife and son as soon as possible, and asked. 

“Your point here is?”

Val huffed loudly, her breath smelling of the mint tea she’d been drinking, “Lucy needed to go out there with Scott, nothing was going to change her mind about that.”

Jeff knew that. He knew that he had no right to stand in his wife’s way when she chose to do something for herself. He had known it each of the long months that he had hoped to find answers, even if it hurt knowing he couldn’t have done anything to change where they had ended up.

“She doesn’t blame you for what happened.” Val continued softly.

Lucy had been unconscious when Val had taken her, and as far as anyone had said she hadn’t woken up again until that morning. Val hadn’t spoken to her, Jeff knew because he hadn’t left her bedside. 

Val knew his wife well enough though, that he didn’t doubt her statement. 

“I should have been there sooner, Val,” He argued, “I should have found them nine months ago.”

“With what information?” Val shrugged, dropping her voice as she started, “You said yourself, even following the river you almost passed right by the place. Without the information from Rodgers, without the loss of their border patrols a week later, how would you have gotten in there Jeff?”

“I could have fought.” He bit back, “Like they’ve spent the last nine months fighting , Val.”

“And what about the boys at home?” She whispered, her voice sharp as a knife as she glanced at a pair of passing visitors, “Would you have really left them without a mother or a father? Because that’s what would have happened if you’d have gone out there nine months ago.”

Jeff fell back in his seat, the reminder of his boys at home knocking the wind from him. He’d left them a month and a half before without saying where he was going or when he’d be back. They’d assumed it was business, and he hadn’t taken the time to correct them. 

“Shit.” He breathed, sitting straight, “Lucy’s gonna kill me.”

For leaving them, for not being there to support them, for barely making time to call home on Alan’s birthday amongst everything else that had been happening. 

Val’s face fell, “You haven’t told them?”

“I--” He stumbled, “I told myself I would once they were safe… then once they were awake.”

“Well,” Val downed the rest of her tea, “they’re awake Jeff.”

He looked back towards the hallway they had walked down, “I can’t leave them, Val.”

“You need to tell their family.” She muttered, shifting to stand, “Don’t even think about coming back to their room until you have.”

He looked down, knowing she was right, knowing he had neglected the larger part of his family in favour of holding close the part that he had missed so much. The very thought sent him sick, he had sworn to be there for them all, that he’d manage things just fine whilst Lucy was gone. 

He had tried. 

Val’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, “Talk to your boys, Jeff and tell them things are looking up. I’ve got this watch.”

She left him without another word. 

“Eos,” He whispered, “get me on the next flight out of London.”

***

Jeff hated flying commercial. Over the years he knew he’d become spoiled with the convenience of having his own jet, before that he’d been too used to the spare seats on military flights - admittedly far more uncomfortable than seats on a commercial flight, but always without the inane questions from people that thought they knew him. 

He had left the jet in Massachusetts for John though, giving the kid the option to fly home of a weekend. Flying transatlantic solo was something Jeff knew he could do, but on his trip out to London six weeks prior, he knew his head hadn’t been in the right place for it. 

When Eos had quietly alerted him to the jet leaving Boston as Jeff had waited for his connecting flight in Chicago, he had been sure that John must have been on to him.

From John’s face when Jeff met him on the runway in Kansas, he knew he had been wrong.

“ Dad ?” John had frozen at the top of the jet’s steps, “What--”

He shrugged, “Eos let me know we had a similar ETA.”

John stumbled as he raced down the steps, his holdall off balancing him, “Is-- is everything okay ?”

Jeff caught him by the shoulder, wondering when the little boy had gotten so tall, as he pulled him in for as long of a hug as John ever allowed. 

“Things are good.” He swallowed, “Sorry I’ve been gone for so long son.”

The problem was, John was smart -- Harvard smart. Even if Jeff had given him a more eloquent explanation, the kid would have seen right through it. He’d always been too good at reading people, had always been the first to see through Jeff’s white lies and jokes. 

So it was no surprise when John pulled back from his hug with a look of uncertainty, his eyes scanning over Jeff as he tried to work out exactly what ‘good’ meant. 

“How’s Harvard?” Jeff cleared his throat as he directed him towards the car.

Even if he hadn’t wanted to, John took the distraction, clearly still concerned at first as he started talking. 

By the time they’d made it onto the freeway, Jeff had him talking of how he could use his communications major as part of his NASA application. His concern mostly forgotten as his father took the time to really listen for the first time in weeks. 

“So what brings you home this early on a Monday morning?” Jeff asked as they turned onto the driveway, the sun barely having crept above the horizon.

John looked across to him, his hair blazing in the early morning sun, “Alan has a physics presentation this afternoon.”

Jeff had to look away from the track he’d driven down a million times, knowing he should have been the one ready to be there. It shouldn’t have been down to his older brother to fly half way across the country, cutting into his already hectic schedule for a High School presentation. He knew John never would have said no, that he would have been there for his youngest brother no matter what was on in his diary. 

“I don’t know that he’ll be going to school today.” He swallowed, glancing across the cab to his son.

John straightened, his face falling back to the same concern Jeff had seen earlier, “It’s about Mom and Scott, isn’t it?”

Jeff nodded as he pulled up alongside the family van, “Inside.”

John didn’t hesitate in climbing out of the truck, heading straight for the door as Jeff followed more carefully. 

The porch swing creaked where it swung in the breeze, still half sanded, exactly as he’d left it the day Val had come around and shattered his world into a million pieces. 

“He’s up to something, Grandma! Eos knows and won’t tell us.”

Gordon’s voice was loud through the door John was holding open, drawing Jeff’s attention into the house. 

“I am unable to share information as to your father’s whereabouts.”

“ See !” Alan joined in the squabble, “She always tells us where Dad is! He’s been in London for weeks and now he could have vanished .”

He stepped into the kitchen ahead of John, not waiting to hear where the conversation went next, “I’ve not vanished, boys, I’m here.”

Eos had told him every morning that they had asked her his location, he hadn’t pieced together their reasoning until he had heard the desperation in Alan’s voice that morning, the pinch in Gordon’s that betrayed his fear. 

Both launched themselves at him, all lanky arms and legs forcing him to take a step back as he balanced himself. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into two blond heads of hair, “I should have told you where I was.”

Alan clung tighter, “You came home.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, kissing the youngest’s hair, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.”

“Where’ve you been?” Virgil’s baritone was deep, the hour too early for him to be awake voluntarily. 

Jeff looked across to where he sat at the table, noting how tired he looked again, like he had just before he had broken up with Brad. He should never have left them, not for so long, not when they had all been broken in their own ways at the loss of their mom and brother. Jeff’s mother stood at Virgil’s side, her hand firm on the middle son’s shoulder.

“I--” He swallowed, looking from Virgil to John, and finally to the pair in his arms, “I’ve been in London.”

“Eos told us that much.” His mother frowned across the room, “Doing what , Jeff?”

He took a long slow breath, running a hand through Alan’s hair as he shook his head, “We found them.” 

“Who?” Virgil straightened, something sparking brighter in his eyes.

It was John who answered for him, “Mom and Scott.” 

“They’re alive.” He recovered himself, squeezing the youngest pair closer, “They’re both alive .”

The room erupted, Virgil standing from his seat as both blond’s cried out with questions at the same time. John moved closer, catching his father’s shoulder and holding on tightly as Virgil rounded the table and wrapped himself around them all. 

He swallowed, nodding as he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all sooner.” 

Looking to Virgil specifically, he tried to find a reason, something to justify himself in what he had done. He had thought he had been protecting them all, shielding them from the reality of what he knew for certain had happened to their two absent family members. In reality, all his own absence had done was hurt them more. 

“Come and sit down, boys,” His mother interrupted them all, “I’m sure your father is in need of some good strong coffee.”

“Are they okay?” Virgil asked as he let them all go, Alan and Gordon both still lingering close. 

Pulling out a chair, Jeff sunk into it heavily, tugging Alan along with him. He wanted to be honest with them and give them the truth of the situation, but he knew he needed to shield them from the nightmares. None of them needed to know of the scars he had seen over Scott’s torso, or how their mother flinched at any movement she wasn’t expecting. 

“They’re doing better.” He answered quickly when Alan’s face began to fall from a look of hope to concern, “They’re… they’re going to need some time, boys, to feel like themselves again. I--- I don’t… They both only woke up yesterday, and there’s a lot for them to process.” 

“ Yesterday ?” Virgil blanched, his eyes widening as he looked around his brothers, “What the hell are you doing here ?”

Jeff gaped, unsure how he was meant to answer as he looked to each of his boys and then to his mother.

“I-- I thought--” He started, “I needed to tell you all.”

“Who’s with them?” John asked, eyes equally as wide as Virgil’s, “Dad you can’t have just--”

“Val.” He stated quickly, surprised by their shock, “Your aunt Val’s with them.”

The room exhaled as one, each of the boys sinking into a chair around the table as Jeff watched his mother pour the coffee. 

“Do I have to go to school today?” Alan murmured, shuffling his chair closer to his father, “Can’t we go back with you?”

It was John that caught his youngest brother’s shoulder, “I think what Dad’s saying is that they’re not ready to see us yet.”

“But they miss you.” He added quickly, reaching across to squeeze Alan’s pyjama clad knee, “And they love you.”

He wished he could take them all with him, that he could have his entire family in one room and hold onto them all the way he had the night before Lucy and Scott had left. The younger boys didn’t need to see the scars that were still raw and the exhaustion that still haunted their mother and brother’s eyes. Alan was still too young to see the type of trauma that they had gone through, and he knew the rest of the family would want to shield him from the truth of what had happened. 

He knew Lucy would give anything to hold onto any of the boys just for a little while, but that she would never want to expose any of them to the reality of how she had spent the last months. He understood the disappointment in each of his son’s faces as he glanced around the table, even though they knew the same.

“You have to go back.” Gordon murmured, after a moment, “They’ll need you, Dad.”

He shook his head, he’d been gone so long, left the four of them without either parent to care for them. Val was right, they needed him as much as Lucy and Scott did, perhaps more in some ways.

“You boys--”

“Have me to look after them.” His mother wagged her finger at him, “Gordon’s right, there’s somewhere more important you need to be right now.”

“I can fly you over this afternoon,” John volunteered, pulling his phone from his pocket, “I’m sure Penny will put me up for the night.”

He stood as he typed, heading out of the kitchen no doubt to make the call to the Creighton-Ward household. 

“I’ll find Mom’s old CD collection, she always liked listening to that when she was sick.” Virgil went to follow his brother, “Do you know where Scott’s copy of Kipling’s Complete Verse is?”

“I borrowed it!” Alan jumped up to chase after them both, “We were talking about one of the poems in English.” 

“Hey,” Gordon joined the rest of them, “What about the blanket? Who had that last?”

Jeff blinked as they all went, the coffee warm between his hands as he shook his head, “What did I just witness?”

His mother’s arm was comforting across his shoulder as she chuckled softly, “Four boys that love their family very much, doing what little they can to help.”

Catching her hand on his shoulder, he sighed, equal parts stunned and relieved as he looked through to the lounge. 

“You could have called and told us.” She continued softly.

“No,” He swallowed, “I needed to be here, Mom. I needed to see them.”

He had needed to hold them all close, and know that they were all going to be okay. He’d needed to see their smiles and the drop of their shoulders as he had told them the news they had all been hoping for. 

“Well, you’ve seen them.” His mother patted his arm, “So drink up, because it sounds like you’ve got a flight path to plan.”

Chapter Text

Scott hated waiting at the school gates, the other adults always looked at him funny and his brothers always seemed to take forever to get there. 

Mom had told him he needed to learn patience, that not everything in life was a rush. He wondered if it was why she had allowed him to meet John at the Middle school for them both to walk to the highstreet and meet her on the way home from getting their youngest brothers from the Elementary school on the other side of the town. It wasn’t every day that he had to wait, he had athletics on a Tuesday, and John had Science club on a Thursday, but they were the days he found himself missing waiting on his younger brother. 

“Hey,” He grinned as John strode towards him, weaving in between the other kids and adults, “how’d your science quiz go?”

John’s eyes rolled dramatically as they fell into step together, “It was fine, I finished early and went up to the library,” He waved the book he was carrying, “they finally got in Uncle Lee’s book.”

Scott reached out for the book, examining it as they walked, “Nice, you gonna read it with Alan this weekend?”

He kept hold of it as they walked, the weight of the hardback definitely noticeable. John’s bag was always the heaviest of them all, extra books that he insisted on taking to and from school with him adding to the weight that he carried with him each day. Scott thought moving to High School had been bad enough, but he had found that his own backpack still hadn’t met up to the same weight as John’s. 

“Maybe,” He shrugged, “he wanted to wait for Dad to be home to read it with us both.”

Scott got it, Dad’s time had been stretched thin ever since the business had taken off. Most of the time he couldn’t keep track of where he would be and when, and even when he was home his attention was usually taken up by their youngest brothers.

He missed the days where Dad would pick him up from school whilst Mom had stayed home with John and Virgil. Being so young, he hadn’t truly appreciated just how valuable that half an hour alone with his father had been. It had only really been when he had started meeting John at the school gates that he had realised how nice it was to spend the time one-to-one, no matter how short. 

“Wanna go to the sweet shop before Mom gets us?” He offered, checking his watch, “If we run we’ll have time.”

John’s face lit up for a moment before his features fell again, “I didn’t bring my allowance.”

Scott shrugged, “I can pay.”

John grinned as he looked up and down the road before they crossed, “Race ya.”

~

Val Casey liked poetry, how the words wrapped around her in a comforting blanket as she read. It was a simple pleasure that kept the horrors of the world at bay when her job exposed the worst of them to her. She’d always kept a copy of Angelou’s best verses in her bag wherever she went, ready to pull out for long flights or even longer nights spent waiting for news. 

Scott had picked up on the habit when he had still been a teenager and she had been happy to share the verses of her favourite Kipling poems with the kid as they had waited for his broken arm to be x-rayed. From then, it had spiralled, and a new book of verses had been her go to gift for each birthday of his. 

“Sorry it’s not a new one,” She murmured as she set her copy of Blanco’s complete works on the table next to his bed, “I might have to borrow it though if I get through my sudoku.”

She’d settled in comfortably in the chair Jeff had angled between both beds, content to watch over them for as long as needed. 

Eos had updated her with Jeff’s plans and Val had only been able to roll her eyes. It hadn’t been her intention to send him back across the Atlantic to the rest of his family, but the dramatics ran strong in the family and she had triggered some kind of realisation. 

He hadn’t been home for six weeks, had refused to go back even for Alan’s birthday. Whilst she had pushed, she hadn’t exactly blamed him, at the time they had both known that they had been close to being able to launch some kind of rescue mission and Jeff hadn’t wanted to cause a delay with being on the wrong side of the world. 

“It’ll do him good to get a change of scenery.” She murmured to herself as she completed another box on her paper. 

Neither person in each of the beds responded to her comment, both slack jawed and breathing evenly in their sleep. 

Both of them were looking better than when she had last seen them, there was more colour in their faces than there had been two weeks prior, Scott’s hair had been tamed into some sort of order, whilst Lucy’s had been plaited back out of the way. Their eyes were still darker than she was familiar with, heavy with the kind of sleep deprivation that went on for months and months, and beneath the covers she knew the scars were still raw and fresh. 

As she had told Rodgers though, both of them were alive and safe. 

More importantly, neither were going to be disturbed by Generals looking for answers. 

She’d spent the last two weeks making sure of it, refusing to take no for an answer. Some had threatened her, General Baker amongst the most vocal in his protests. She knew his son had been on the base that day, had been the only one to voice concerns about Scott and Lucy’s actions to save the day, it hadn’t been hard to put two and two together to make four. It had been Rodgers that had spoken over his fellow General, and leveled any foul assumptions he had dared to make. 

Lucy shifting in her sleep drew Val’s attention from the numbers on the page in front of her. She reached out automatically, covering the splints over her fingers in the hope that it would be enough to settle her. 

Whilst Lucy had never minded hospitals, she had always complained about how cold they were. There was a blanket back at the farm house - a thick fleecy thing with more stains than Val dared to count - that Lucy’s parents had gotten for her after their first trip to France. It had been in her hospital bag for each time she had given birth, and had gone with each of the family members on various hospital stays over the years. 

Once she’d pulled the thin blanket further over Lucy, she fired off a text to Jeff, sure he would have already thought of bringing it back with him but confident it wouldn’t do any harm to check. 

“He’ll be back soon,” She smiled, “we’ll get you properly cozy then, Luce.” 

Yawning herself, she shifted down in the chair, setting her puzzle book down on her knee and folding her arms across her chest. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable nights sleep she’d ever had, but it wouldn’t be the worst either, and for her best friend and her eldest nephew, it would be worth it. 

***

“Don’t you think we should wake her?”

“Your aunt’s slept in worse spots.”

“Where’s Dad?”

Val winced as she shifted in the seat, her back protesting as she stretched out. Beyond the windows the morning sun had set the clouds on fire, the red bright against the grey of the clouds. 

“Kansas.” She yawned, “Sorry, my fault, I put ideas in his head.”

Lucy’s smile was tired as she shook her head slightly, “Thanks for looking after him.”

Val wasn’t sure she’d done anything of the sort over the long months that the pair had been gone. Sure, she had been the one to take the news back to one of her best friends, and she had listened as he had explained to the rest of the family. There had been a quiet mutual understanding that they wouldn’t be giving up on them, not until they had known what had happened with utmost certainty. 

“ Val ,” Lucy reached for her, face twisting as her hand went to ribs that she knew were still healing. 

She stood from her seat quickly, ignoring joints that protested from sleeping in the armchair all night to take Lucy’s hand that had reached for her and hold onto it lightly. 

“You were there.” Lucy finished, her eyes soft and wide as she held Val’s own, “Thank you for being there for them.” 

Looking away as tears stung her own eyes, Val focussed on Scott instead as she cleared her throat, “I owe you a book, kiddo, any requests?”

Scott frowned across at them both, his gaze jumping from his mother to Val and back again as he processed. 

Lucy’s hand pulled away from Val’s, “Yesterday was your birthday, love.”

Val felt her heart freeze and then shatter as realisation crossed his features, his eyes widening as his jaw fell. Lucy couldn’t go to him, so she didn’t hesitate in crossing the small space between the two beds, only pausing as he shook his head. 

“It’s-- we… it’s April ?”

The time had both stretched on and felt like nothing at all, each day of no news as frustrating as the one before. She wasn’t sure what she had done each week, even when at the time she knew she had refused to stop and risk being seen as giving up. Her superiors had told her that life went on, and whilst she knew it had, for one family there had been a gaping hole ready to swallow them at the beginning and end of every day. 

Val knew, because she had felt it too. 

Her first thought every morning had been of her eldest nephew, closely followed by her best friend. It just made sense that they too had been her last thought each and every night as well. 

Some days she hadn’t been able to help herself and the intrusive thoughts had snuck in as she had wondered just what the pair were going through. It had been enough fuel to add to her nightmares as memories of their SERE training had fuelled her imagination. Pictures of Scott and Lucy both begging her to help save them had imprinted themselves on the back of her eyelids, always just out of reach no matter how many times she screamed their names. 

From what she had seen of each of their bodies as she and Jeff had triaged each of them, her nightmares had had nothing on the reality of what they had been through. 

“I know.” Lucy’s voice was soft as Val tried to find the words to say. 

She wanted to apologise, to tell him that she had tried to find them, that she had scoured the wreckage of the base and come up with nothing but shreds of paper detailing the Artemis project and more questions than answers.

There was no way to make the words sound anything other than empty and hollow. 

“Wha--” Scott coughed, doubling forward slightly, his face twisting as he went. 

Val caught his shoulder, easing him back against the pillows as she adjusted the oxygen cannula under his nose. His hand caught her arm as she did, holding on in a clear signal that he didn’t want her to move away, that she was welcome in his bubble and didn’t need to worry about spooking him. 

“What happened to the base?” He swallowed, his voice thick as he tried to clear his throat again, “My squad?”

Behind them, Lucy’s sharp inhale was loud.

“All airmen got away from the attack safely.” She nodded, glancing over her shoulder to Lucy, “The Artemis jets were destroyed and the Bereznian forces didn’t get their hands on anything.”

Scott relaxed under her hand, his breath easing at the knowledge. 

Neither of them needed to know how many hadn’t survived on the ground, nor that they had been the only two prisoners taken. They would find out eventually, both their inquisitive nature and the nature of the job would make sure of that much, but when they were both still exhausted and hurting wasn’t the time for such discussions. 

“We need to debrief.” He swallowed, his jawline clenching as he nodded slowly to himself. Val saw the shift and knew he was falling back on the man he had needed to be for the last nine months, that he was letting himself be the Captain that knew how to deal with the situation. 

For all that she was proud of him as a Major, she was there with them both as family. She was a proud aunt that wanted to hold her first nephew and protect him from anything the world would dare throw at him. 

“No,” She assured softly, reaching out to brush his hair away from his face and hating the scabbed over cut that her fingers caught, “you need to rest and recover, Scotty. The debrief will wait.” 

Rodgers had assured her that he would pull every string available to him to ensure the pair got the peace they needed in those early days. He had been certain that he would be present for the debrief, a familiar face to both of them when Val knew they would need it. 

“Rodgers said it’ll wait.” She murmured as Scott’s frame sunk further back into his pillows. 

Across the room Lucy’s breath hitched, drawing both of their attention.

“Rodgers?” She choked, eyes wide as her mouth gaped, “He’s--”

Val didn’t need Scott to release her arm to know that she was needed across the room, the pain in Lucy’s voice was palpable as she choked on her words. 

“Hey,” Val soothed as she took Lucy’s unbroken hand, “it’s okay, yeah, Rodgers is alive.”

What exactly had happened to Lucy that day on the base, she still wasn’t sure. Rodgers’ memory had never returned, even when he had listened to the recordings Eos had provided. None of them were certain how he had ended up buried under the bunk rooms with a head injury that the doctors had been certain he would never recover from, but Val could only thank whatever greater power that had decided to spare him. 

All along she had been certain he had held the missing piece of the puzzle, and she had been right. 

“He--” Lucy swallowed, screwing her eyes shut as she shook her head, “He tried to get us out.”

That much Val had heard on the recordings. She had heard the desperation in the man’s voice, something that he as a General had no right to let slip towards a Captain and a Sergeant. He had begged Val to find them both, and she held suspicion that he had perhaps let slip a tear or two when she had reported back that the pair were finally safe. 

Guilt, she assumed, was the main factor, considering it had been Jeff who had once saved the man.

“I know,” She nodded, rubbing light circles against the cold skin at the back of her hand, “I heard it all on the recording Eos sent.”

Lucy bit her lip as she met Val’s eye, the tears evident even before they fell. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, “I-- I didn’ know what else to do.”

Val shook her head in return, smiling softly to her. Jeff had warned her off of reaching out to Lucy’s face, but she couldn’t help herself as the tears fell and pooled under her eyes. 

Nobody had voiced why she was suddenly adverse to having her face touched, but Val had a sinking suspicion that as a fellow woman, her touch would be more willingly received. She moved slowly, making sure her intention was obvious as she gave Lucy a chance to react before her thumb made contact with the damp skin. 

“You did the right thing. You saved so many people.” Glancing across to Scott she allowed herself to smile wider, “You both did.”

Lucy’s frame shook as she sunk back in the bed, her eyes still glossy but tears no longer falling as Val reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You did good,” Val continued, knowing the soft words would eventually lull her back to much needed sleep. 

She was aware of Scott watching them both as Lucy’s eyes eventually drifted shut, her breaths evening out as her sniffles cleared. She didn’t doubt that, as a Captain, he’d spent the long months trying to protect his mother, a sergeant. Jeff hadn’t said much about it when they had briefly crossed paths before Val had left to threaten anyone that would dare approach Lucy or Scott before they were ready. He hadn’t needed to though, not when Val had seen the haunted look in his eye that told her of the horrors he had seen in the place he had pulled Scott from. 

The role of protector wasn’t a mindset easily dropped.

“She’s okay, Captain.” She nodded as she watched the slow blink of his eyes, “You can rest too.”

He swallowed as his brow dipped into a frown, “They hurt her, Aunt Val. I let them hurt her.”

“Nah,” She replied easily, “you saved her kid. You convinced her to leave.”

How he had done it, she wasn’t sure she would ever know for certain, but somehow Captain Scott Tracy had convinced his mother to leave him in that hell-hole in order to find help. He had sent her away at just the right moment for Jeff and Val to stumble across her. 

“Di’n’ want to,” He mumbled with another slow blink, “ha’ to though.”

Val knew the particular ache that came with such decisions, the knowledge of doing something that was right not taking away from the pain of giving up something that was needed. It would have been a selfless act, done with the sole purpose of getting at least one of them out of that place alive. 

His admission left her wondering though if it had solely been the act of a Captain, or if Lucy’s son had helped in making the decision. 

“Scotty,” She whispered as she slipped from one bed to the other, leaning over to kiss his hair in a way she hadn’t done since he had been tiny, “everyone is so proud of you, you’ve been so strong and brave, kiddo, it’s okay now.”

His eyes skirted past her towards Lucy, determined to the end. 

“Rest, Captain.” She persisted, perching herself on his mattress as she took his hand, “You’ve done your job, you got your Mom to safety. Let us look after you now.”

The next time his eyes slipped shut, he didn’t force them back open. 

Val kept carding her fingers through his hair, waiting for his face to slacken as sleep overcame him. He looked younger with his hair long, even with the half-tamed beard, the strands falling over his face had been cut barely above his eyes as it had been when he had been younger. When he had started school he had asked for it to be cut short, just as Jeff’s had been prior to his second moon mission. 

His enlistment had kept his hair short and his face clean shaven ever since. 

She wondered if he would keep it longer once he went home, or if he would forever keep it short after the ordeal. The beard was a non-negotiable, it hid his dimples - or as she preferred to call them, weapons of mass destruction - it would have to go. 

It was easy to smile at memories of a teenager falling over himself as he learned how to flirt with the girls in his class. When younger brothers had asked, Scott had always insisted it had just come naturally, but Val knew it had really all come down to the dimples and lots of advice off of his father. 

She hoped that he would find such confidence again, that he would go home and find the same kind of love she saw his parents share every day. It was something she knew he had always wanted, something they had whispered about together when Jeff and Lucy hadn’t been listening. He deserved to find something the same. 

As she returned to her sudoku, Val could only hope that both of them would eventually find the peace they deserved.

Chapter Text

Jeff would say she was getting too old for contorting herself to climb through their bedroom window and onto the roof, but he’d been saying the same since Lucy had first found her way out onto the tiles to appreciate the view of the stars. 

The first time John had followed her out there, Jeff had about had a fit until she had pointed out that the Hydrangea bushes that had taken over the front of the house would cushion any fall. She never told him that she had been the one to tap on their son’s bedroom window and waved him to follow her, and John had never let on to his father either.

It was their quiet space though, a spot that most of the family certainly knew about, but none dared to invade. Their time on the roof was theirs alone, protected from interruptions from the youngest pair. 

“Hey,” She murmured as she shuffled over to sit next to John, “thought you’d be finishing packing?”

He looked across to her with a shrug, his chin not moving from his knees as he answered, “All done, figured I’d come and enjoy the view one last time.”

She scoffed as she reached across to his shoulder, pointing upwards, “The view is up there , and besides, it’s not like you’re moving to the Moon.”

His smile was small as he followed her gaze up to the clear night sky, “Not yet, anyway.”

“Think of this as a trial run,” She teased gently, ignoring how badly she wanted him to stay. 

By rights she should have had another year with him, it should have only been Scott that had graduated that summer and been headed off to live the next part of his life. John had done things his own way though, and when he had been offered to jump ahead a year none of them had found any reason to say no. 

“It’ll be weird,” He sighed, “living in the city.”

“Yeah, but at least you’ve got your own room.” 

It had been one of his biggest concerns about moving to Boston, not having his own quiet space to get away from the noise and ruckus that came with being a Freshman. It wasn’t like John to ask for anything exorbitant, so she had taken it upon herself to ensure he could feel as comfortable as possible with the move. Lucy still couldn’t say she felt guilty for using her name and Jeff’s status in the community to pull strings to get what their son needed in order to thrive. 

“It won’t be the same as sharing with Scott.”

“No,” She agreed, “but it means you’ll be able to study in peace.” 

John sighed as he laid back to look up at the sky, “I’m gonna miss everyone.”

Lucy followed him, catching his long fingers with her own and giving a gentle squeeze as they watched the pinprick stars above them. 

“We’ll miss you too.” She assured, “But we’re only ever a phone call away, day or night.”

She knew it would take everything in her to not call either of her eldest boys once they’d moved away, to allow him and Scott each their own space to grow and learn how to be adults and live their own lives.

“Even if you’re busy?”

When he looked back to her she smiled and nodded, “I’ll never be too busy for my boys.”

~

The days blurred, the clock on the wall the only indicator that time did pass in the short bursts of sleep Lucy found herself falling in and out of. When she’d woken up under the blanket her mother had made from the boys’ baby blankets, she had felt warm and comfortable in a way she hadn’t done before. Jeff had been back next to her, his hand resting loosely over hers as he dozed in the armchair between her and Scott’s bed and he had barely left since. 

Despite the blanket and the CD of music the boys had sent, the nightmares still came. Each time it was the same as Duval pushed his way into the hospital room and overpowered Jeff, and then Scott, before turning on her. 

Each time she woke, Jeff was there with gentle words of assurance until she caught her breath and saw Scott on the other side of the room safe and well. He never asked what it was that woke her, and she never told him. She knew it would come eventually, that she would have to talk with someone about what had happened in that place, but first she needed to feel stronger. 

The window on the far side of her bed was a source of comfort, even if she couldn’t quite see the sky from her spot, she at least knew it was there. She could see the light of day, no matter how bright or grey it was, and the soft glow of the moon as it shifted through the night sky. 

The freedom of open air was something she was desperate to feel on her skin, the brief night spent walking through the forest felt like a distant dream after so long of being confined to a single place. Being confined to her bed whilst she recovered was meant to be different, but as the days went on, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d gotten nowhere. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Jeff whispered as he cracked one eye open from where he’d fallen asleep next to Scott’s bed, “you okay?”

“I-” she started, unsure how to answer, “I don’t know, Jeff.”

He stretched as he stood, something in his shoulder popping as he rolled his arms. It only took two steps for him to get to her bedside, but it made all the difference as he closed the distance and perched up on the edge of her bed. 

“Tell me?” He prompted softly as he covered her splinted fingers with his own, “Please?”

“I--” She sighed, shaking her head as she met his eye, “I feel--” 

She hadn’t thought she’d been ready to talk about it, but as he held her gaze, her voice caught and she realised that she needed to tell him.

She took a breath, they had danced the same dance before plenty of times, first with pre-wedding jitters, then through the long hours of childbirth. Jeff had always held her hand, had found a way to chase away the demons that crept in and tried to suffocate her. He knew and understood what she needed, even when she couldn’t figure it out herself. 

“I feel trapped.” She whispered, “We got out, but I can’t go anywhere beyond this room and it feels like…” 

Looking away, her eyes caught the shift of moonlight through the window as the clouds cleared. It wasn’t much, the streetlights below drowning out most of the soft white colour, but it was what she needed to see. 

“Like you’re still there.” Jeff murmured, “I understand.”

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to sink into the pillows at her back.

“I just want to go outside, Jeff, see the stars and feel the fresh air.”

The bed shifted, Jeff moving away for a moment, shuffling around the room quietly before returning to her other side. 

She looked to him, to his hands held out to her, and then to the armchair that he’d moved to the window. 

“I can’t take you outside,” He murmured, “but we can sit over there for a while.”

The first time he had helped her from the bed, Tam had warned him that Kay would have words. Lucy hadn’t ever heard anything said on the matter, but she knew Jeff wouldn’t care regardless. If it meant her feeling better, feeling safer and more comfortable, she knew he’d do anything for her. 

She pulled the sheets from her legs, pulling the blanket from home up and around her shoulders before she shifted to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold against her toes, but Jeff’s arms were warm as she took hold of them. He held her weight easily as they shuffled across the room, the act almost familiar except for the lack of pregnant belly between them. 

“You sit.” She whispered when they made it to the chair, somewhat sure of what she wanted. 

Jeff understood, shifting to hold her carefully as he took the seat with her in his lap and the blanket draped around them both. Her head fell to his shoulder as her eyes sought out the sky beyond the window mottled with spring rain-clouds that half blocked the light of the moon. 

It wasn’t the open, unpolluted, skies of the farm house, but it wasn’t the confines of a below-ground prison either. 

“This okay?” Jeff murmured as he looked to the window, “Are you comfortable?”

The question was one he’d asked a thousand times in the days they’d been there, one she was grateful for even as she wished she could tell him it was unnecessary. It was getting easier to remember what his touch felt like, to replace the ghosts of her nightmares with Jeff’s welcome attention. 

“Yeah,” She sighed, “Thank you.”

His lips were light in her hair, something she knew he had quickly realised was a safe way of touching her. One hand was over hers, his thumb soothing in the patterns he drew across the skin of her free hand. 

The anxiety she hadn’t realised she had been holding onto, loosened in her chest. Everything suddenly felt a little easier, like she could finally breathe again. 

“What else?” Jeff murmured to her, his lips still in her hair, “It’s not just missing the sky, is it?”

She sighed as she shook her head, closing her eyes as she turned further into his shoulder. Talking was hard, finding the words to explain everything felt like an almost impossible task. He hadn’t been there, and he didn’t deserve to be scarred with the same knife that had cut into her. 

With Scott across the room, she barely dared to voice how weak she felt, not when he still needed her to be strong. 

“Remember when Virgil was born?” She murmured, focussing on the smell of her husband, the familiar detergent on his t-shirt, “And everything was taking too long, and we knew -- we knew something wasn’t right.” 

His hand around her back shifted to rub lightly against her t-shirt, something the doctors had only allowed her to change into earlier that day. The fabric was soft against her skin, comfortable where it brushed against still healing scars as his fingers moved carefully up and down. 

Jeff knew the anxiety, had coached her through their fair share of attacks when Virgil and Gordon had each been tiny. 

“What about now?” He asked softly, “This minute?”

“Cat Two.” She murmured, “I’m okay, I just wanna sleep.”

His lips shifted to the skin of her brow, “What’s stopping you?”

A trolley passed by outside, the noise not overly loud, but enough for her to pick up on, drawing her head up from his shoulder in an instinctive reaction.

“Ah,” Jeff nodded as he followed her glance, “you’re waiting for them to come.”

It was easier to hum in admission as she let her head rest back on his shoulder.

His arms both wrapped around her, his cheek resting against her hair as his hand ran lightly over her back in large soothing circles. Each breath came a little easier, the demons chased just a little further away, but still not far enough. 

“Do you--” She hated to ask, hated the way she knew it would sound, “Do you think they have something? To help?”

“I can ask.” Jeff offered, “If you want me to?”

She couldn’t help but think of Scott and feel like she should be stronger, like she should be able to sleep without the need of medications. Her son was managing just fine, why couldn’t she?

“Hey now, you’re not him, you’re not weak just because your brain processes differently.”

How Jeff knew she had been thinking of him, she couldn’t be sure, but her husband knew her, and he was right. In her right mind she knew the fact, and had told each of her boys similar things many a time. Stubbornness ran strong in their family though, and she couldn’t help but feel like she should be doing better. 

“I’m his Mom, I need to be strong for him.”

Jeff’s lips were light, tentative, against the side of her head.

“You have been, love, you’ve been so strong and brave for both of you, and you still can be. Accepting help isn’t weakness, remember?”