Joie [2/?]
Title: Joie
Author: Faline
Summary: Beck defects. His army doesn't. Five years later, Heather finds him and knocks him out. She's hard core like that.
Dreaming of one person for hours straight can, and will, lead to delusions
This was how Bill found them, a paltry five minutes later. Still clutching one another and still crying in joy. Heather and Beck both heard him open the front door and had turned to look at him. His mouth fell open and he immediately thought the worst. He pulled his gun from its holster, hitched on a plain leather belt rather than his former deputy uniform. “Let go of her. Heather, come here.”
The tense note in his voice dissolved their unbreakable bubble of happiness and he held out a hand. “Bill, relax. Put the gun down. It’s only Beck.” As soon as she said the words she saw the anger in his face and panicked.
He rushed them, pulling Heather away and grabbing Beck by the collar. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve coming back here Major.”
Beck was limp in his grasp, not bothering to fight. Instead, he looked at the floor, refusing to look Bill in the face, which infuriated the smaller man even more. He struck Beck cross the face, hard.
Beck went down without a sound and Heather jumped at Bill, pushing him away before bending over and helping the Major up. Heather felt at Beck’s temple, frowning when her fingers came away red with his blood. She turned angry eyes to Bill. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Beck looked up in surprise at this, having heard Heather swear for the first time ever and his eyes followed hers, looking on Bill with wonder. What the hell had this town been through, he wondered.
“How can you still defend him Heather, after all this time? How can you hold him knowing what he did to the rangers, to Jake?”
Heather’s voice was soft in his ear when she replied. “It doesn’t matter now, don’t you understand. It’s been long enough to move past this.”
Bill shook with anger before turning on his heel and stalking from the room. Heather lifter her hand again and brushed the hair from Beck’s face, surprised her own self at the lack of fire that she should have found in them. There was emptiness now that worried her.
“I’ll be back.” He nodded and she rose, following Bill outside. He’d parked right off the porch, not bothering with the driveway.
When he saw her, he raised a hand. “I don’t care what you feel for him but you can’t bring him back with us. You can’t Heather. Jake’ll string him up. He allowed all that stuff to happen to us Heather. He allowed Goetz to run free; to kill Bonnie.”
It was as though a flood gate had opened inside of him, spilling free all the emotion from those first few days of the war. And he was right, Heather had to admit. In the four years since Beck had last been seen, the citizens talked of him sparingly, using unfriendly terms and usually with a sentence that started with, “If Beck was still here . . . “ and ending with violence.
So, if the town was still so upset at him, why wasn’t she? Bill would have surely liked an answer to that, as would Heather. The fact was she knew Beck was a good man forced to do things that he wouldn’t have, had he known the full truth. If someone bothered to explain to him before she herself had her showdown with him.
Bill leveled an irritated look at her. “He can’t come back. I won’t take him. You should tell him to turn his ass around and go back wherever he came from.” There was such a venom in his voice that Heather wondered if she even knew Bill at all. If the flirting and sweet words were any real indication of the man inside.
“Then leave. I’ll find my own way home.”
“Alone?”
She sighed then, a heavy and disheartened sound. “Yes. Alone.”
He nodded at her and turned to leave. “Bill?”
He paused, already opening the door to the truck.
“Please don’t tell anyone else. He at least deserves the chance to get home. This war was hard on everyone, no matter what side they fought on.” Her words seemed enough for him and he nodded, getting in the truck and leaving.
Heather’s shoulders dropped and she let her head fall forward. The sky had stopped crying, leaving in its wake a thin mud and a damp feel to the air. There were worse conditions to walk the country in, she supposed.
“I’m sorry.”
His voice sounded from the porch and Heather glanced back at Beck. He was leaning in the doorway, his outer coat removed and his hood around his neck. He looked terrible, she realized. Beaten.
She joined him, grabbing his hand and anchoring him with her. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I can’t offer you much, but I can get you something to start with. Santa Fe is a long way, especially by foot.”
Moving past him, Heather paused when he grabbed her arm lightly. She looked back at him, still spooked by the lack of drive she saw in his face. Something horrifying had happened to Beck, wherever he’d been. He no longer had that air of leadership about him.
“I can’t go to Santa Fe. There’s nothing there for me.”
She drew a sharp breath. “Your family?”
He only shook his head, indicating that they were gone. That he had no one. “Oh Beck. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, looking away from her, out in to the distance. Leaning back on the door jam, he was despondent and Heather’s heart ached deeply.
“Let’s go inside then. Sit down. I’ve got some food if you’re hungry.”
The desperate look he gave her told her he hadn’t eaten in a few days. She settled him on the couch and dug out something for him to eat. Nothing serious. A few apples, including the one she’d knocked out his hand, washed of course. There was some bread and cheese, a welcome luxury this past year when they’d finally managed to get their hands on milk cows.
His eyes lit up at the fare though, when she brought it in. Treating it like a feast, Beck sampled slowly, taking the time to chew thoroughly and make the experience last. She didn’t know what to do with him. He obviously had no one. And had come back to Jericho for something, or someone. Probably her.
She didn’t know what she could do with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He glanced at her and nodded solemnly before starting on another apple. Heather grabbed the radio from her bag and went out on the front porch. “Jericho, this is Heather over.”
The response was immediate. “Heather, this is Emily. Go ahead, over.”
Heather thanked her luck for getting her friend on the line. She was much better at lying to Emily than she was Jake. “Bill has come and gone. Looks like the weather will hold the rest of the afternoon. I’m going to stay out here and finish up with the farms. I should be back before night fall. I’ll make contact again if I need any more help. Over”
Emily was silent for a moment and Heather crossed her fingers. “Got that Heather. Are you okay? Over?”
She gulped before taking a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m all right. I really want to get this done today. Tell Jake not to worry. Hell, tell everyone not to worry. Remind them that I’m not a wilting flower. Over and out.”
A chuckle, softly, escaped her lips over the last comment, remembering a town hall meeting a few months back, when everyone had been throwing in skills for the reconstruction. Gray Anderson had forbidden her to leave. He’d forbidden all the women to leave the city limits, on the basis that they were more susceptible to attack on the post-war roads.
Both Emily and herself had openly protested, quoting that they weren’t wilting flowers. That they had the skills and the know how to make it out there. It had taken three months to convince the man in charge, along with both Green boys and all the rangers, that Heather at least was healthy and capable enough to start working outside the town limits.
And this is what happens, she thinks. Hanging out with what might as well be a fugitive. But, a plan is already forming in her mind when she goes back inside. Beck hasn’t moved far, simply pulling off his boots and propping his feet up. His eyes have closed however, and Heather can tell he’s sleeping.
She watches him for a moment and allows herself to remember for just a moment, the hope that she’d held on to when she’d first come back to Jericho. That first look he’d give her, when she’d hugged Jake so tight. It had sent shivers down her spine, and then seeing that man from New Bern had frightened her beyond belief.
Not even an hour later he was sitting across from her, asking her to bare her soul and risk her life for him. It had been that simple for her. That’s what she’d ultimately given him. It hadn’t mattered that he was married or fighting on the wrong side. He had seen past the veneer she’d erected to protect herself with one look.
ON the couch in an abandoned farmhouse, Beck grunted and tossed his body, falling on the floor with a thump.
Heather rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. She really should clean out that wound, she though absently as she brushed the hair away from his face. Maybe clean him up all over. “Are you okay?”
Beck nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. He immediately groaned, a hand coming to his forehead. He gave her a sly look then. “You hit me.”
Not expecting that comment, Heather gaped at him for a second before swallowing her guilt. “Twice even. Knocked you clean out.”
He nodded in agreement before sitting up. His knees bent in front of him, he leaned forward on them and gave Heather an even look. “I was going to head to Fort Polk if I didn’t find you. If you were-“ his voice trailed off. “I should still have friends down there and I don’t believe Cheyenne. It’s not possible the US just gave up on me. They couldn’t have discharged me without a trial.”
He was rambling now, going on about Cheyenne telling him this and that, lying to him it sounded like to Heather. When he stopped his rant, he was breathing hard and obviously agitated.
She wanted to ask him, badly, what had happened to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it now. He was far too frail. “If you want to head down to Polk, I’ll help however I can. But for now, we should get you cleaned up at the very least.”
He looked surprised. “Where? Doesn’t exactly look like they’re rolling in toiletries or running water out here.”
Heather gave his arm a squeeze before standing and pulling him up with her. “Back to my house.”
“But you promised Bill-“
“Fuck Bill. Not literally you know, but forget about him. I’ll sneak you in if I have to. The patrols are a lot less frequent these days. We shouldn’t have any problem getting down there.”
Beck didn’t like it, but it seemed this new Heather Lisinsky, the one that swore and would go toe to toe with anyone she damned well pleased, was determined to help him. He knew that he could potentially be killed in Jericho. There was only so much Heather could do to help him.
As she took his hand and lead him from the house he wasn’t worried. He was bone tired and starving still, but he knew Heather would do what she could. And he didn’t want to give up this small joy of just walking with her, holding her hand. After his years in Loomer Ridge he was just happy that he was free.
Author: Faline
Summary: Beck defects. His army doesn't. Five years later, Heather finds him and knocks him out. She's hard core like that.
Dreaming of one person for hours straight can, and will, lead to delusions
This was how Bill found them, a paltry five minutes later. Still clutching one another and still crying in joy. Heather and Beck both heard him open the front door and had turned to look at him. His mouth fell open and he immediately thought the worst. He pulled his gun from its holster, hitched on a plain leather belt rather than his former deputy uniform. “Let go of her. Heather, come here.”
The tense note in his voice dissolved their unbreakable bubble of happiness and he held out a hand. “Bill, relax. Put the gun down. It’s only Beck.” As soon as she said the words she saw the anger in his face and panicked.
He rushed them, pulling Heather away and grabbing Beck by the collar. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve coming back here Major.”
Beck was limp in his grasp, not bothering to fight. Instead, he looked at the floor, refusing to look Bill in the face, which infuriated the smaller man even more. He struck Beck cross the face, hard.
Beck went down without a sound and Heather jumped at Bill, pushing him away before bending over and helping the Major up. Heather felt at Beck’s temple, frowning when her fingers came away red with his blood. She turned angry eyes to Bill. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Beck looked up in surprise at this, having heard Heather swear for the first time ever and his eyes followed hers, looking on Bill with wonder. What the hell had this town been through, he wondered.
“How can you still defend him Heather, after all this time? How can you hold him knowing what he did to the rangers, to Jake?”
Heather’s voice was soft in his ear when she replied. “It doesn’t matter now, don’t you understand. It’s been long enough to move past this.”
Bill shook with anger before turning on his heel and stalking from the room. Heather lifter her hand again and brushed the hair from Beck’s face, surprised her own self at the lack of fire that she should have found in them. There was emptiness now that worried her.
“I’ll be back.” He nodded and she rose, following Bill outside. He’d parked right off the porch, not bothering with the driveway.
When he saw her, he raised a hand. “I don’t care what you feel for him but you can’t bring him back with us. You can’t Heather. Jake’ll string him up. He allowed all that stuff to happen to us Heather. He allowed Goetz to run free; to kill Bonnie.”
It was as though a flood gate had opened inside of him, spilling free all the emotion from those first few days of the war. And he was right, Heather had to admit. In the four years since Beck had last been seen, the citizens talked of him sparingly, using unfriendly terms and usually with a sentence that started with, “If Beck was still here . . . “ and ending with violence.
So, if the town was still so upset at him, why wasn’t she? Bill would have surely liked an answer to that, as would Heather. The fact was she knew Beck was a good man forced to do things that he wouldn’t have, had he known the full truth. If someone bothered to explain to him before she herself had her showdown with him.
Bill leveled an irritated look at her. “He can’t come back. I won’t take him. You should tell him to turn his ass around and go back wherever he came from.” There was such a venom in his voice that Heather wondered if she even knew Bill at all. If the flirting and sweet words were any real indication of the man inside.
“Then leave. I’ll find my own way home.”
“Alone?”
She sighed then, a heavy and disheartened sound. “Yes. Alone.”
He nodded at her and turned to leave. “Bill?”
He paused, already opening the door to the truck.
“Please don’t tell anyone else. He at least deserves the chance to get home. This war was hard on everyone, no matter what side they fought on.” Her words seemed enough for him and he nodded, getting in the truck and leaving.
Heather’s shoulders dropped and she let her head fall forward. The sky had stopped crying, leaving in its wake a thin mud and a damp feel to the air. There were worse conditions to walk the country in, she supposed.
“I’m sorry.”
His voice sounded from the porch and Heather glanced back at Beck. He was leaning in the doorway, his outer coat removed and his hood around his neck. He looked terrible, she realized. Beaten.
She joined him, grabbing his hand and anchoring him with her. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I can’t offer you much, but I can get you something to start with. Santa Fe is a long way, especially by foot.”
Moving past him, Heather paused when he grabbed her arm lightly. She looked back at him, still spooked by the lack of drive she saw in his face. Something horrifying had happened to Beck, wherever he’d been. He no longer had that air of leadership about him.
“I can’t go to Santa Fe. There’s nothing there for me.”
She drew a sharp breath. “Your family?”
He only shook his head, indicating that they were gone. That he had no one. “Oh Beck. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, looking away from her, out in to the distance. Leaning back on the door jam, he was despondent and Heather’s heart ached deeply.
“Let’s go inside then. Sit down. I’ve got some food if you’re hungry.”
The desperate look he gave her told her he hadn’t eaten in a few days. She settled him on the couch and dug out something for him to eat. Nothing serious. A few apples, including the one she’d knocked out his hand, washed of course. There was some bread and cheese, a welcome luxury this past year when they’d finally managed to get their hands on milk cows.
His eyes lit up at the fare though, when she brought it in. Treating it like a feast, Beck sampled slowly, taking the time to chew thoroughly and make the experience last. She didn’t know what to do with him. He obviously had no one. And had come back to Jericho for something, or someone. Probably her.
She didn’t know what she could do with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He glanced at her and nodded solemnly before starting on another apple. Heather grabbed the radio from her bag and went out on the front porch. “Jericho, this is Heather over.”
The response was immediate. “Heather, this is Emily. Go ahead, over.”
Heather thanked her luck for getting her friend on the line. She was much better at lying to Emily than she was Jake. “Bill has come and gone. Looks like the weather will hold the rest of the afternoon. I’m going to stay out here and finish up with the farms. I should be back before night fall. I’ll make contact again if I need any more help. Over”
Emily was silent for a moment and Heather crossed her fingers. “Got that Heather. Are you okay? Over?”
She gulped before taking a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m all right. I really want to get this done today. Tell Jake not to worry. Hell, tell everyone not to worry. Remind them that I’m not a wilting flower. Over and out.”
A chuckle, softly, escaped her lips over the last comment, remembering a town hall meeting a few months back, when everyone had been throwing in skills for the reconstruction. Gray Anderson had forbidden her to leave. He’d forbidden all the women to leave the city limits, on the basis that they were more susceptible to attack on the post-war roads.
Both Emily and herself had openly protested, quoting that they weren’t wilting flowers. That they had the skills and the know how to make it out there. It had taken three months to convince the man in charge, along with both Green boys and all the rangers, that Heather at least was healthy and capable enough to start working outside the town limits.
And this is what happens, she thinks. Hanging out with what might as well be a fugitive. But, a plan is already forming in her mind when she goes back inside. Beck hasn’t moved far, simply pulling off his boots and propping his feet up. His eyes have closed however, and Heather can tell he’s sleeping.
She watches him for a moment and allows herself to remember for just a moment, the hope that she’d held on to when she’d first come back to Jericho. That first look he’d give her, when she’d hugged Jake so tight. It had sent shivers down her spine, and then seeing that man from New Bern had frightened her beyond belief.
Not even an hour later he was sitting across from her, asking her to bare her soul and risk her life for him. It had been that simple for her. That’s what she’d ultimately given him. It hadn’t mattered that he was married or fighting on the wrong side. He had seen past the veneer she’d erected to protect herself with one look.
ON the couch in an abandoned farmhouse, Beck grunted and tossed his body, falling on the floor with a thump.
Heather rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. She really should clean out that wound, she though absently as she brushed the hair away from his face. Maybe clean him up all over. “Are you okay?”
Beck nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. He immediately groaned, a hand coming to his forehead. He gave her a sly look then. “You hit me.”
Not expecting that comment, Heather gaped at him for a second before swallowing her guilt. “Twice even. Knocked you clean out.”
He nodded in agreement before sitting up. His knees bent in front of him, he leaned forward on them and gave Heather an even look. “I was going to head to Fort Polk if I didn’t find you. If you were-“ his voice trailed off. “I should still have friends down there and I don’t believe Cheyenne. It’s not possible the US just gave up on me. They couldn’t have discharged me without a trial.”
He was rambling now, going on about Cheyenne telling him this and that, lying to him it sounded like to Heather. When he stopped his rant, he was breathing hard and obviously agitated.
She wanted to ask him, badly, what had happened to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it now. He was far too frail. “If you want to head down to Polk, I’ll help however I can. But for now, we should get you cleaned up at the very least.”
He looked surprised. “Where? Doesn’t exactly look like they’re rolling in toiletries or running water out here.”
Heather gave his arm a squeeze before standing and pulling him up with her. “Back to my house.”
“But you promised Bill-“
“Fuck Bill. Not literally you know, but forget about him. I’ll sneak you in if I have to. The patrols are a lot less frequent these days. We shouldn’t have any problem getting down there.”
Beck didn’t like it, but it seemed this new Heather Lisinsky, the one that swore and would go toe to toe with anyone she damned well pleased, was determined to help him. He knew that he could potentially be killed in Jericho. There was only so much Heather could do to help him.
As she took his hand and lead him from the house he wasn’t worried. He was bone tired and starving still, but he knew Heather would do what she could. And he didn’t want to give up this small joy of just walking with her, holding her hand. After his years in Loomer Ridge he was just happy that he was free.