(FIC) Biloxi Blues (1/1)
Family thing? Family thing? And you couldn’t even have told me, a family thing? I better not look as crestfallen as I feel right now, because I should have found out about this last night or, or something, not now.
“I’d like to invite you all, but I need to fly solo on this one,” Roadblock tells Duke, and why did I not envision this happening when we were in New York?
Because, I mean, yeah, okay, I didn’t introduce everybody to the whole family, but we had actual Cobra-tracking business, and I wasn’t secretive about it, and-And this is just different, and not okay!
And Duke gives him ‘til twelve hundred hours instead of saying no dice, at the very least saying take someone for backup!
“Fine, leave,” I grouse, following him to the door of the Coyote. “Without making us breakfast first!”
And then Roadblock’s gone, and suddenly I’m the object of scrutiny here.
“Tunnel Rat…?” Duke stares at me.
“What?” I drop into the driver’s seat and fold my arms.
“You don’t have a problem with unit cohesion, do you?” He sighs.
“No comment.”
“Because that right there-“
“Duke. No. Comment. Okay?”
“Right. Of course.” When I risk a glance over to him, he’s facing forward. Scarlett’s leaning over his shoulder, though, and she’s looking at me.
“It kind of sounded like a lovers’ tiff.” She says. Well, thank you, Scarlett, for that stunning insight.
“And I can’t say anything one way or the other.”
“By the time we clear our names, DADT’ll be a thing of the pas-“
“With Roadblock not here, I can’t say anything one way or the other.” And so goes our coming out. Not at all what either of us had in mind, but it’s not like she didn’t already have an idea, her and Duke both.
When Ripcord comes back from rummaging around the back looking for breakfast, he notices the temperature up front has dropped by about twenty degrees.
“Whoa, what’s going on with you guys?”
“Nothing!” I snap, jumping out of the cab of the truck and storming off. Not far, ‘cause I have no intention of getting lost, or eaten. I’m pretty sure we’re firmly in ‘gator territory.
I climb back in after I’ve cooled off, into the back this time-Duke’s moved into the driver’s seat, and Scarlett’s shifted up front.
“Seriously, what’s up with you today?” Ripcord hisses.
“Drop it.”
He holds his hands up. “Just asking.”
“Yeah, well, don’t.”
---/-/---
“Tunnel Rat, cut it out.” Duke sighs.
“I’m not doing anything, what am I doing?”
“If you mess with your radio one more time, I’m taking it away from you. He’s been gone forty-five minutes.”
“Fine. Fine, I’m putting it away. There, radio’s in my pocket. You, uh-You guys still have your frequencies open, right, because-“
“Yes. Everybody else has their radio on, and if he calls, we’ll know, but right now, you’re freaking out and you don’t need to be. And quite frankly, it’s annoying.”
I opened my mouth, but quickly shut it again. There wasn’t much I could say to that… yeah, I’m worrying. He runs off, he doesn’t even tell me what this is about, he’s alone out there, and if Cobra’s not watching his family, then the MPs are, maybe both, but ‘family thing’, he says, and Duke just lets him run off even though we all know better than to think that could possibly be safe.
That man is going to give me an ulcer.
Just so long as he’s all right…
“Give me the radio, private.” Duke snaps, stretching his hand back.
I hadn’t even realized I was checking again…
There’s a ruckus, in the distance, and we drive towards it, slowly. A bridge is out-and not the normal kind of ‘out’, either, it’s been blown up-and there’s a tow truck pulling something out of the creek.
“Definitely one of Flint’s.” Duke says, and my stomach rolls over.
I knew it. I knew it. Flint’s here, there are MPs on Roadblock’s family, he’s in trouble, and a bridge fucking blew up and there’s a military vehicle in the damn river.
“No sign of the big guy,” Ripcord says, like that isn’t the one thing we’re all scanning for. He turns to me. “That’s good, right? I mean, unless… ‘gators got him.”
“Why would you even go there?” I smack his hand off my shoulder. An ulcer, that man has given me an ulcer. I’m going to kill him, I just have to make sure his ass is safe first. “Your mouth needs a mute button.”
“I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.”
I was not thinking it. I wasn’t thinking anything like that. I had put all large man-eating reptiles from my mind completely, and then Ripcord had to go and… And who makes a joke like that? I’m worried-out-of-my-mind worried, and he’s joking about alligators? What, does he think this is a game? Does he not understand how serious this is?
Being on the run hasn’t been a part of his life as long as it’s been ours, and he hasn’t had as much time as the rest of us to feel like a team, but there are things you just know not to say. And maybe I’m usually the first to turn to the old gallows’ humor, but this is different, this is…
This is Roadblock. And I’m worried about him.
Duke’s radio goes off, and that’s one weight off my mind, but he and Scarlett are in contact with Roadblock now and I don’t have my radio and I’m getting half a conversation, and it’s not the half I want. I just want to hear his voice, is that so bad? Okay, it’s a little sappy, or a little needy, but I just…
Dammit.
Duke tosses my radio back to me before I can say anything, which is the one small blessing in my life since we wound up in the south.
“We’ll make for the southeast end of the bayou.” I hear.
“Who’s ‘we’?” I say, because first off, I am immediately suspicious, and second, it’s not like I can say any of the things I really want to.
“Long story.” He says.
“Roadblock…”
“I know. Fill you all in on it later, I promise. Southeast end.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Southeast. We’re heading there. I just…”
I just love you, that’s all.
---/-/---
A trap. Lovely. Perfect. Big guy, you better be all right in there… And this better be Flint setting us up and not Cobra. Not that I have much hope of that being the case, but hey, I know they’re both in town, right?
When the explosives start blowing, it’s not too bad-small-grade stuff, and there are worse things than swamp water that I’ve wound up face-down in, but it means we’re dealing with that Cobra merc instead of Flint’s boys, and he was close enough I could smell the bastard until I got my feet knocked out from under me.
I lose track of him-I lose track of everything in a minute, ‘cause the Baroness is coming in hot with a few goons, and we all take cover, fire off shots when we can and duck back when we have to, and then…
The boathouse goes sky-high and it feels like the whole world jerks to a stop. I don’t know the odds on surviving a thing like that, but I know those odds aren’t good, not for anybody inside when it blew, and that’s where Roadblock’s radio was, where we’ve been assuming Roadblock was.
We start forward, but plasma fire drives us back, and almost having our faces blasted off is a grounding experience. We’re in the middle of a firefight, I can’t forget that just because…
I don’t know what happened. I don’t even know where Roadblock is. We hadn’t been in radio contact since he told us to meet the mysterious ‘we’ at the southeast end of the damn bayou, the radio could have gotten there a dozen ways, it doesn’t mean he…
I get down to business and focus on putting a few holes in Cobra-at least on giving Duke some cover, ‘cause I trust the dude to have a plan, even if I barely know up from down right now.
Duke’s not the one who puts a stop to the Baroness and her mercenary, though-Roadblock is. Him and his mysterious ‘we’, coming out of the dark on an airboat. I’m scrambling towards him-the ground’s too spongy to run, which is what I want to do, but then again, I also want to throw myself into his arms and kiss him, which is probably an action that wouldn’t fly, given the circumstances, but I’ve been worrying like crazy, and he looks so good-so alive, and his shirt’s torn up, but I can’t see any blood or burns-and I see the Aussie come up out of the water, aiming for Roadblock, but before I can do anything about him…
Well, Ripcord did mention the ‘gators, after all…
I just settle myself as close to Roadblock as I can get for the ride back to civilization.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“I’ll be fine.” He smiles. “Hope you guys didn’t get into too much trouble…”
“Trouble, he says. You gave me an ulcer, a big one! Trouble I can handle, stress I don’t need. If you went and got yourself hurt, you had better tell me now while I’m in a good mood.”
“This is a good mood?” Ripcord asks.
“Shut up.” I smack him away again and turn back to Roadblock.
“I told you, I’m fine.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. His knuckles are bruised and there’s a band of red around his wrist, and I frown at him. He at least looks a little guilty. “Okay, I’m mostly fine.”
“So who’s ‘we’?”
“I mentioned my cousin Herschel.” He jerks his head towards Cousin Herschel there, and everyone makes little noises of acknowledgement.
We abandon the airboat for the Coyote, once we reach the real solid ground where we left it. From there Cousin Herschel gives Duke directions, something I’d be supremely uneasy about if Roadblock wasn’t smiling.
Not that I’m not a little uneasy, but that smile can go a long way…
Our destination, as it turns out, is Chez Hinton, and okay, I can’t help smiling a little myself, watching the big guy with his grandmother. Then he’s beckoning the rest of us down, and I guess he’s a braver man than I am, or a better liar. Sure, it still ain’t Sunday brunch, but I mean, I was too petrified to introduce him to my family.
Then again, I don’t see a military police presence around this place, which goes a long way towards getting a bunch of people through the door anyway.
---/-/---
Dinner is tricky-in part because, you know, you try sitting next to your boyfriend with his shirt all ripped and his physique all on display and pretend you don’t want to hit that like a sledgehammer, and in part because just about everything on the table either has massive amounts of cheese, pork, or shellfish.
I mean, I can eat cheese-I wouldn’t want to drink a glass of milk, but I can eat cheese, it’s just that we’re talking a lot of cheese. Artery clogging amounts. And, I guess if it was a life-or-death situation, I’d be a lot less picky about things. Although I do not want to touch the crawfish, of all the foods I’ve seen with the heads still on, these are the most disturbing.
I settle on the chicken divan, which it turns out is pretty good, and bread. Bread’s always safe.
Roadblock’s Grams thinks Snake Eyes ‘needs feeding up’, which is all kinds of hilarious. At least Scarlett finally managed to explain he can’t talk, for a while she thought he was just shy. I think she thinks most of us need feeding up, actually… and if all the men in Roadblock’s family tend towards the giant-slab-of-muscle look, I can see how she’d find the rest of us kinda anemic-looking…
When the next door neighbors come by, she shoos everyone upstairs, except for Heavy Duty-him, she wants to re-introduce to the neighbors’ daughter. The rest of us cram into a guest room, and I finally give in to the one thing I’ve been itching to do for two hours now.
Not the kissing part, but at least I get my arms around him.
“Thank you for not being dead.”
“You’re very welcome.” He chuckles, patting my back a little awkwardly. He sits down on the bed, and I follow, my hand touching his, just barely. “I’m glad not to be dead.”
“I was worried-You have no idea how much I worried.”
“Ulcers, I remember. I’m okay.”
Scarlett coughs, and we look over at the others.
“You might as well tell them, since they kind of already know.” I shrug.
“Oh, me tell them?”
“Tell us what?” Ripcord asks.
“Nothing.” I groan. “Everything. I don’t-“
“Hush,” Roadblock leans in and kisses me. “You’ll give yourself another ulcer.”
“Mm…” I melt into him, one hand resting on his chest.
“You guys are gay?”
“Yeah. How about the rest of you wait in the hall?” I wave him off. “I’m busy now.”
“Come on, guys.” Scarlett sighs.
“You guys are gay?” Ripcord repeats.
“Give the lovebirds their privacy for a minute and if you want, I’ll tell you two when I figured it out.” She steers them out.
“We are not having sex in my grandmother’s house.” Roadblock tells me, when the door clicks shut.
“Wasn’t gonna ask.” I kiss him, deep. “But I still want you to myself, even if it’s just for a minute. I thought-Roadblock, I thought-“
“Shh…” He tugs my hat off and tosses it down on the bed so he can run his fingers through my hair. “I’m okay.”
“I thought you were gone.”
“What, and leave you? Fat chance of that happening.”
“I thought I lost you, and I didn’t even know… You didn’t even tell me you needed to go home, and I thought you were-“
“Funeral. Didn’t seem right bringing anyone else into it… meant having a little visibility, and-Well, it didn’t exactly turn out like I planned, but…”
“I thought you were dead.” I throw my arms back around him, bury my face against his shoulder and just hold on until I don’t feel like shaking, until I’m not afraid I might start crying even though he really is fine and we’re all safe now.
“I’m right here, baby… Nicky, it’s all right… Shh… love you, okay?”
“I love you, ya big idiot, don’t you ever go running off anywhere without me again.” I sniff. “Don’t make me worry like that when there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Right. No more solo missions. I read you loud and clear there.” He brings me into another kiss, and it’s… it’s really perfect, it’s sweet and slow and he’s alive and for a moment everything is all right with the world.
Then the door opens.
“You’re lucky you’re a fugitive from the law, I think Grams is trying to marry me off to the Conagher gir-Marvin?”
“Herschel.”
“Were the two of you- You know what, nevermind. Not anybody’s business but your own.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the family.”
“I won’t. Look, what you do is what you do. I honestly don’t care. It’s safe to come downstairs for pie, if you want to.”
With that, Heavy Duty’s gone, and we’re alone again.
Roadblock sighs, and I rub circles on his back.
“You okay there, big guy?”
“Just glad he’s cool with this. Most of my family wouldn’t be… I don’t know about Grams, and I’ll be honest, a big part of me’s afraid to find out. And this is the side of the family I’m less worried about-my mom’s side I know wouldn’t take kindly to it. Her father was a fire-and-brimstone preacher. Her relatives are all…”
“Strict religious types?”
“Strict enough. Least on my dad’s side, there’s-well, there’s Herschel, and he took that pretty well. Do you want to go get some pie?”
“I’m curious as to what kind of pie’s on the menu.” I shrug. We both head downstairs.