Chapter Text
The sun had disappeared hours ago, leaving the Tongass in total darkness. Thick trees stood tall in the face of adversity, strong and true with the weight of snow packed on their branches and blanketing the ground below. In every direction he looked, all T’aaku could see were the trunks of more trees and mist. No landmarks stood out, no familiarity in the natural world around him.
But he was not alone.
There was rustling through low hanging branches, kicking up snow. Just beyond his line of sight, but always near enough that he could hear it hunting him, stalking him. Thunder rumbled just above, a flash of lightning cutting through the cloudy skies. Not even the stars could smile down on him, it seemed; he was cut off from everything that might offer him aid.
He was on his own then. T’aaku swallowed down his trepidations and decided to confront whatever it was that stalked him, but his steps were sluggish in the powdery snow. For every one he made, the trees around him seemed to lean back another four to five paces, trapping him in the center without means of cover or escape.
“Déi áwé!” (That’s enough!) T’aaku was overwhelmed as is, but it felt like the Spirits were playing games with him. No matter what direction he moved in, he was always stuck in place, struggling against the powdery white like tar trapping him down. He fell face-first into a cold embrace, wet seeping in instantly. When he raised his head, he saw it standing just ahead:
Glowing red eyes, all black fur that stuck out against the snow and the mist like a walking void. It was the figure of some hulking wolf, a puff of steaming breath exhaled from his nostrils. T’aaku didn’t fear wolves though, he was one of them. He was at home among them. What scared him was whatever stood just beyond the wolf: something large and imposing, much more terrible but still out of sight. It loomed like an amorphous shadow, pulling unseen strings.
The wolf bared its teeth: large, unnatural, poking out of his mouth like old, traditional paintings.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” T’aaku breathed out. “We’re the same.” His hand reached forward, but it was too far away. “We’re the same. I know it.”
His voice echoed in his own ears, detached and foreign, repeating like a mantra.
We’re the same. We’re the same. We’re the same.
T’aaku awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and panting. Panicked golden eyes darted around the meager den of the barracks room, a poorly furnished space that was barely lived in. Untouched cabinets freshly installed, a round, wooden table and two chairs that were never sat in, and then the two bedroom doors that housed his captors. One was shut, hiding the Australian behind it, likely snoring in a tangle of bedsheets and half hanging off the bed. T’aaku had seen him like that once, but he assumed that was how Ozzie always slept.
The other door was cracked open, but he couldn’t see inside. Pitch darkness concealed Shadow from view, allowing uncertainty to creep in. With heart pounding anxiety, T’aaku sat on the couch and stared at the cracked open door, waiting with baited breath while his whole body trembled from apprehension, from the desire to get up and run far away. He wanted to move, wanted-- something, maybe to go home and find his mother’s comforting embrace again.
She was too far away from him, safe back in Kake, and likely not even looking for her problematic eldest child. With some bitterness, T’aaku realized she was more than likely grateful he was gone -- and the damn raptors too. One less problem for her to worry about, one less mouth to feed.
He pushed thin blankets off and let them pool to the wooden floor, seeking out his hunting boots. His socks were still balled up inside, much to his relief; that was less time wasted finding the only pair of clothes he was brought in with. A folded pair of fresh clothes were left behind on the counter, placed somewhere he would see. Shadow must have set them out before he crawled into bed the night prior. It was a rare act of mercy and he took it, quickly changing before slipping out the front door to the bare, washed out halls of the barracks. T’aaku wasn’t sure how much longer he had before Shadow and Ozzie woke, but he didn’t want to find out either. Careful with each step, bouncing on his toes for minimal impact against the floor, he hurried down the hall and ran for the first exit that would grant him the wintery wonderland of freedom outside.
He felt eyes on him.
It had snowed the night before, blanketing the base and diluting whatever colors had endured prior. Shadow paused in his trek, the hair on the back of his neck standing because something was watching him. Out here in this shithole base, it could be anything: a stray bear wandering in to raid the garbage from Housing, a pack of wolves growing brave—
Then his eyes fell to the raptor pen.
Yellow eyes stared back.
Shane was stock still, barely visible against the snow. His white feathers created a natural camouflage that was marred solely by the spots of black that were his limbs and maw. The other raptor, Beast, was pacing, a small limp in his step from whatever had ruined his leg. But Shane was perfectly still.
Shadow scoffed and took another step. Shane snorted, his breath a hot puff of steam against the frigid air that dissipated as soon as it formed.
He was stalking him.
Shadow moved again and Shane followed from behind the fence, matching his pace with careful, silent steps. Each movement was calculated, planned. Shadow walked to the end of the pen; Shane followed. A wry little smile, frustrated and very annoyed, pulled back on his lips as he turned. Shane turned with him, following his every move.
He doesn’t have time for this. He’s supposed to go find the little handler — wherever he ran off to. But the white raptor continued to follow, no matter where he went.
Shadow was bold enough to approach the gate. Shane pulled his lips back to bare his teeth. “What are you going to do?” Venom dripped from his words. Shane didn’t answer, why would he? But it still annoyed Shadow to no end.
He was being hunted and he didn’t like it.
“Shadow!” Ozzie’s voice was a breath of relief somewhere behind him. Shadow refused to look away from the raptor’s stare, because turning away first meant accepting defeat or showing submission -- or whatever bullshit Jericho spewed about alpha mentality. “Shadow, don’t you fuckin’ ignore me!”
“What do you want?”
“I’m lookin’ for T’aaku!”
“Get in line.” Shadow folded his arms over his chest, shifting his weight to one leg with a huff.
Ozzie approached a little more cautiously now, looking his partner over with mild curiosity. “Really?” His head tilted. Blue eyes shifted from Shadow to the white raptor and then back. “Cause it looks like you’re havin’ a starin’ contest with an animal.”
“He started it.”
A bark of laughter escaped Ozzie before he could stifle it. “Alright, that’s enough. We got shit to do.”
He was anxious to soak up whatever pitiful hours of sunlight this arctic world had to offer. Since he and Shadow were both dispatched here, dropped in with another unbearable task as per usual, Ozzie found himself at a loss. Coming from long, sunny days and unyielding warmth that wrapped around the body like a blanket, Fairbanks had seen its creation in exact contrast. Heaven grew from mangroves and golden coasts, where the ocean spray brought salty relief and his days were adventurous and lazy all the same. This was Hell as far as he was concerned; even the sun tolerated a few hours each day to grace them with its presence before hiding away and drowning them in a polar darkness of icy winds and so much snow.
Everywhere he looked was white and terrible. He didn’t know how Shadow could stand it, but then-- Shadow had always adapted to whatever infernal hand was thrust upon them.
The base specialized in Arctic Combat. Ozzie was sure that would explain why they were here, babysitting a civilian who had gone and done what Jericho couldn’t: befriended highly intelligent living weapons. The General droned on for too long and miserable a time for the Australian, the basics boiling down to something-something Make them submit, something-something Work for us before someone else does it first. Any means necessary, and all other urgencies that higher officers threw onto the men beneath them, dropping the responsibility of their poorly conceived plans while they basked in glory and credit much later.
T’aaku was just an eighteen year old who, to Ozzie’s knowledge, never left that isolated island of rainforest and unmarred civilization rooted in tradition. Now he was expected to fall in line with strict military law or find himself crushed under the boot of authority he should never answer to.
Likely never conceptualized. In the month they had spent together, Ozzie came to a swift and definitive conclusion about their captive (because that was exactly what he was: a captive)-- This was never going to work.
“Shadow. Seriously, can we go?” His partner still had not moved from his spot. It might have stayed that way for much longer if Shane didn’t tear his eyes away first and retreat from the spot entirely. Both raptors convened on the other side of the pen, barking in succession at the familiar sight of their handler.
Ozzie and Shadow both turned to spy their missing person in a slow approach to the pen, kicking his way through the snow like a child walking their way to an angry parent. He had lost weight during his time on base. Both Black Ops members assumed it was just a hunger strike at first, very poorly concealed. No one could blame him. Since the raptors arrived, most of the meat went to feed them, which left much to be desired for what was served to the rest of the residents on base. Groceries were already expensive enough, but T’aaku had nothing on him when he was captured and ripped away from the Tongass near Kake.
So buying himself food off-base was out of the question. He never bothered to ask either, miserably accepting his fate without protest.
Brought without clothes of his own, T’aaku was forced to borrow from their civvies. Ozzie noticed the way he leaned more towards Shadow’s style of all-black, but that could be due to their similarities in height, so the clothes were less likely to hang off him the way Ozzie’s would. Dark circles formed under his eyes from lack of sleep. T’aaku had grown pale, deteriorating before their very eyes. That was to be expected of wild animals trapped in captivity.
Ozzie expected it from the raptors, not the handler.
T’aaku went right up to the gate, sticking his fingers through without fear. Shane’s breath was hot against his skin as he pressed his snout against the bars and gingerly rubbed in. Shadow remained where he stood, his eyes narrowing. Ozzie wouldn’t let the opportunity pass and chose to wade through snow to join his (unwilling) companion’s side. Both raptors hissed at him when he approached, but refused to leave their handler’s side. “Hey, T’aaku,” the Australian purred. “Did you sleep well?”
“I never sleep well.”
Yeah, this wasn’t going to work. “Had anything for breakfast yet? We could go together,” Ozzie supplied. “I doubt there’s anything good, but! No one wants tah eat alone.”
Glassy golden eyes shifted to him, disbelief and some bitterness swimming in them. “I can’t eat the food here.”
Ozzie let out a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, I know. It sucks, but--”
“No,” T’aaku corrected. “Most of it makes me sick. I can’t eat it.”
His shoulders slumped as realization dawned on him. Had he really mischaracterized the teen so badly, and for so long? Ozzie was used to handling prisoners of war, political adversaries-- hardened soldiers in opposition who were holding out for rescue. T’aaku was none of that and showed no real signs of resistance either. Yet, Ozzie still regarded him with the same guilt he would any other captive that's been left in his hands. “Oh…” He felt dumb, unsure of what to do to fix this very particular problem. “Maybe… we can find somethin’?”
T’aaku’s fingers slid down the frosty grates of the pen, the warmth of his fingers and raptor breath melting away what little ice clung to the area. He could tell that Ozzie was trying, but he didn’t understand why. Some bitter side of him whispered through his thoughts that this was just some ploy to get in his good graces. In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing. But the perilous winter of Fairbanks and the isolation of the base wore on him. He craved companionship the other soldiers would never give. It was not ideal to relax into the arms of his captors, and under normal circumstances? T’aaku never would.
But he was tired and so alone, and it didn’t seem like he was going to get time with his raptors anytime soon either.
“Okay,” he resigned. What was the point in fighting? He wouldn’t get out of here anyway.
Shadow watched as Ozzie led the way, pulling their captive in tow. Luckily, T’aaku had already loosened up the snow with the path he took, giving Ozzie an easier time on his trek back in search of their mess hall. Shadow chose to remain in place, a thin layer of snow beginning to dust over him as it began to fall from gray skies above. Shane snarled, finding his way back, wanting to intimidate the other man away from his fence. The threat display was regarded with little more than a scoff, then Shadow followed after.
Many training activities were brought to a halt with the introduction of snow and winter. Some soldiers went out hiking, others holed up in their rooms with the personal heaters pointed towards their beds while they read. Some braved the harsh conditions, stumbling through the snow back to their cars to drive home, or to whatever shops were still open. Errands needed to be run, life still continued on and refused to ice over with the rest of the world around them.
Breakfast was a wash, as far as Ozzie was concerned. T’aaku indulged him by eating bread. It settled in his stomach the way rocks do, tempting nausea that he fought back with water. His body was clinging to whatever it could, hunger pains persisting, only temporarily drawn back. Afterward, Ozzie dragged him away from the mess hall and back to the barracks to gather up clothes for the laundromat. He wouldn’t ask about the raptors, wouldn’t ask to make T’aaku work either. All he asked now was for companionship as they made their way along.
“You do Shadow’s laundry too?” T’aaku asked, sitting on one of the unused dryers.
Ozzie leaned on the shaking unit next to him, a casual smile on his face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“He can do his own laundry, he’s an adult.” T’aaku stared out the door, looking away on purpose. If he stared at Ozzie too long, he might start to find the other man attractive. Now he knew damn well he couldn’t find his captor any level of intriguing either, that was asinine. They were holding him here against his will, ripped him away from his home and the only life he knew. “What’s his deal anyway?”
Ozzie leaned heavily over the unit, running his fingers along T’aaku’s arm. “Why do you care?”
“Because I’m stuck here. So tell me.”
“Fair nuff!” Ozzie snapped upright. “Shadow’s…. An enigma. He would rather be left alone. We’ve been together for say… four? years now?” He tilted his head up, staring at the bare ceiling overhead, counting off his fingers for theatrical effect.
“Like… Together-together? You two snagging or something?”
A small laugh left Ozzie’s lips. “Snagging, I like that. Yeah, we’re snagging. But I just like bein’ with him. I’d follow him anywhere, you know?”
No, T’aaku didn’t know. He never had that sort of loyalty, not to another person at least. In the context of the conversation, Shane and Beast were a highly inappropriate topic as well. “Why’re you bothering me then? Since you’re his little puppy or whatever.”
Ozzie pushed himself off the unit and sighed. He didn’t expect to feel so… indignant about the question, like it struck a nerve with him. “Keep your distance and you’ll be alright. He’s more interested in results, by any means necessary.” The end of his sentence haunted him as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouths, feeling vile. Why did he say that? Shadow wasn’t really like that, he had some restraint. Ozzie didn’t quite know what it was, he was rarely paired with Shadow during those special operations that dragged his partner away and brought him home more haunted and bloody in the middle of the night.
But he definitely had restraint. There was always a line drawn for what was just too far, too soul-crushing, too painful.
“And what results are you looking for? Keeping my raptors here to do your dirty work?” T’aaku folded his arms over his chest, his golden glare settling on Ozzie’s taller form. “I’m not stupid, Ozzie. I know we’re not leaving, so what does it matter if I cooperate or not, right? Pretty sure you’ll just kill me somewhere along the line, once you have what you want out of me.”
The casual delivery of it all made Ozzie’s gut wrench. He had only spent a month with T’aaku, but he already knew he didn’t want to see the teen dead. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen…” Even he sounded uncertain. “Just… work with us, alright? Show us what you can do with uh-- Shane and Beast, right?” Calling them by their names felt more personal. Ozzie would have to remember that, instead of distancing himself by calling them just the raptors. “You show us.. What you can do, Shadow puts in a good word-- The General goes home happy. Everyone profits.”
T’aaku turned his eyes to the door again, watching the snowfall. It had started light earlier, but was now heavy and miserable, covering whatever paved roads and walkways staff managed to clear earlier, rendering their efforts useless. He felt just the same, that no matter what happened -- his efforts here amounted to nothing, just like everything else in life.
“What do you have in mind?” His voice was soft, far away.
Ozzie hummed in thought. “Field test? I would like to see what they’re capable of first.”
T’aaku tapped his index finger against the dryer and thought it over. He just needed to get to his raptors and worry about the rest later. “Yeah, okay.”
“Really?” Ozzie wasn’t sure if he trusted it, but it was better than nothing. “You’re serious!?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled T’aaku into a tight hug. “Aw man, you’re the best! I promise we’re not tryna hurt you or anything! This’ll be great!”
When he pulled away, his voice faded into the background with the rest of the active units in the laundromat. T’aaku didn’t hear him anymore, and didn't care about what was said either. He might be willing to help Shadow and Ozzie, but his raptors made no such promises.