Family
Title: Family
Character/Pairing: Wash, Jim, mentions Taylor
Word Count: 1280
Genre: Action/Angst
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warning: Some swearing, violence, hint of gore
Summary: Shannon has to leave Wash behind. But when Alicia Washington goes down, she's determined her headstone will read, "You Should See The Other Guy."
Spoiler Warning: Mild spoilers and speculation for the finale promo
Author's Note: This is my first Terra Nova fic, and in fact my first proper fic in way too long. Written in a furious midnight fever after seeing the latest ep and promo, and all of my talented writerly friends have the nerve to have busy lives at the moment, so all mistakes are mine!
"Go, Shannon. Go, and you save your family."
"No, Wash." Shannon tries to reach for her arm, but she shoves him away. The injury there isn't bad. He's done a decent job of dressing the bullet wound on her side, and that's all that hurts right now.
Granted, it hurts a lot, but it's not fatal. It's not even as bad as it looks. Shannon's no doctor, though, and what he doesn't know can't hurt him.
"I'm fine. I'm Taylor's right hand woman. They'll take me hostage until you guys get back here with the cavalry and save my ass."
"They'll torture you for Taylor's plans, you mean." Shannon's got that damn stubborn, resolute expression on his face that she thinks is supposed to look heroic. It might, if she couldn't also see the barely suppressed panic in his eyes. Somewhere in his head, he's screaming at himself to go to his family. She wishes he would listen to the damn voice.
"So what if they do? I'm a big girl, Shannon. It's nothing I haven't done before." She's too tired to crack a smile, but somehow she manages. "Besides, I've been listening to your idea of battle humour for the past three hours. What else can they do to me?"
Shannon laughs, if you can call it that - a dry, cracking sound. He's been breathing in smoke, ash and destruction all day and night. They both have.
It's as if 2149 has brought its air into their home already.
Enough of this. Wash is the damn commanding officer here and, much as Shannon likes to pretend it's not the case sometimes, he's not ignoring her today. She shoulders her weapon, stands up. Shoves him away again when he tries to help, and meets his eyes when he stands to match her.
"You're going," she tells him. "Takes the north-east exit. I'll draw their fire, and buy you the time."
"Wash..." But his eyes are full of Elizabeth. His children. He thinks Wash is dying, and she's not going to correct him. He knows how this should go.
"Terra Nova has a lot of soldiers," Wash tells him, "Go save your freakishly brilliant wife and kids for us, ok?"
She goes before he can make another protest. A long moment, and she hears his footsteps retreating north-east. Finally doing the smart thing. Wonders never cease.
It doesn't take her long to find enemy soldiers to help her cause the needed distraction. A big, shiny, dozen-men-to-one-slightly-maimed-woman distraction. She'd said she'd draw their fire, and Alicia Washington knew how to keep a promise in style.
Time and sense go kind of funny in battle. They stretch and snape, fade and then hit like a battering ram. Her focus narrows down to when to duck, where to fire. She doesn't feel her injured side or arm, just the pressure on her trigger finger and the flow of her muscles. Sonic blasts boom around her. They explode across the narrow space, and her vision pops like a kaleidoscope, all ripples and rainbows. The men are good shots, well trained by the best money can buy. Pity for them, Wash was trained by better. By the best, period. First by her mom, and then by Taylor. Her mom is dead, and they foolishly sent Taylor back here to be their enemy, so they're pretty much shit out of luck.
She lets them think she's making for the other exit, that they've got her pinned between them and the east door to the outside. The door she'd be suicidal to open. She can hear the Rexes thundering out there. She and Shannon had been listening to them for hours, prowling the perimeter. Like Nicos - like sharks - they go nuts for blood and guts. There's plenty of that in the air today. The tang of copper, the screaming guns, the chaos and clanging of war is driving them frantic.
She waits until the laser sights skim round the corner, and then she raises her arms high, her sonic dangling harmlessly from its strap. "Ok!" she yells, hoarse from the smoke. "I'm done. I'm standing down!"
Someone screams for her to drop the gun. She does, hearing it clang to the ground. Some of the laser sights track where it falls in the dark. Nice of them to make it easy for her to find it later. Thoughtful of just enough of them to lower their guard to do so.
The Rexes throw themselves at the door again. She's not sure if they're hearing the yelling ("Step back from the weapon! On your knees! Hands on your head! Touch your toes!") or the clang of her weapon. Doesn't really matter. They know there's fresh meat in here. She knows there's no escape through that door. Her captors know it.
She takes a big step back from her weapon, like the nice screaming gentleman asked. Nathaniel never needed to make such a damn racket to get something done. Places her hands on her head, resting just against the door.
The door she'd be suicidal to open.
Hey, she was trained by the best. Not the brightest.
She'd entered her override code before they rounded the corner. As she shows them her back and starts to lower herself to the ground, her bent knees give her the leverage to haul that sucker of a door right open and swing herself behind it as a metric fuckload of roaring reptile punches through into the compound.
God, I love dinosaurs.
From the sounds of things, dinosaurs love tonight's dinner menu. Wash pulls the door as flush with the wall as it will go, not giving a crap about crushing her toes or nose or hell, even her lungs. She just presses herself tighter to the wall, prays not to be noticed, tries not to picture what she's currently hearing, and hopes that the waves of guilt and disgust currently flowing over her will be short lived.
They are. Because the next thing she thinks of is Nathaniel. Screw these guys.
She could get out through the door now. The Rexes are making their way further into the compound, hunting down their fleeing prey. She's not going anywhere, though. Never had any intention of leaving this place. Out there, it's dark and chaotic and she doesn't have a damn clue where Nathaniel might be at this moment, and she'd never reach him on foot anyway.
But Wash knows Lucas is here. And that means that soon, Nathaniel will be here too. She's not going to miss being at his side when that happens because she was running around outside like a lost fresh.
She pushes back the door and moves out into the now silent hall. She ignores the carnage on the floor like it's so much fresh steak. Her sonic has escaped most of the spatter, and she even picks up a few spares. Nice tech, too. Score.
The way to the compound's center mapped in her head, Wash reloads her weapons and straps one to each arm, dual-wielding for maximum range. Her little distraction should have been enough for Shannon to get out. She prays it is so. That he makes it back to his family.
She moves out. Her family is on his way to her. She'll be ready.
Character/Pairing: Wash, Jim, mentions Taylor
Word Count: 1280
Genre: Action/Angst
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warning: Some swearing, violence, hint of gore
Summary: Shannon has to leave Wash behind. But when Alicia Washington goes down, she's determined her headstone will read, "You Should See The Other Guy."
Spoiler Warning: Mild spoilers and speculation for the finale promo
Author's Note: This is my first Terra Nova fic, and in fact my first proper fic in way too long. Written in a furious midnight fever after seeing the latest ep and promo, and all of my talented writerly friends have the nerve to have busy lives at the moment, so all mistakes are mine!
"Go, Shannon. Go, and you save your family."
"No, Wash." Shannon tries to reach for her arm, but she shoves him away. The injury there isn't bad. He's done a decent job of dressing the bullet wound on her side, and that's all that hurts right now.
Granted, it hurts a lot, but it's not fatal. It's not even as bad as it looks. Shannon's no doctor, though, and what he doesn't know can't hurt him.
"I'm fine. I'm Taylor's right hand woman. They'll take me hostage until you guys get back here with the cavalry and save my ass."
"They'll torture you for Taylor's plans, you mean." Shannon's got that damn stubborn, resolute expression on his face that she thinks is supposed to look heroic. It might, if she couldn't also see the barely suppressed panic in his eyes. Somewhere in his head, he's screaming at himself to go to his family. She wishes he would listen to the damn voice.
"So what if they do? I'm a big girl, Shannon. It's nothing I haven't done before." She's too tired to crack a smile, but somehow she manages. "Besides, I've been listening to your idea of battle humour for the past three hours. What else can they do to me?"
Shannon laughs, if you can call it that - a dry, cracking sound. He's been breathing in smoke, ash and destruction all day and night. They both have.
It's as if 2149 has brought its air into their home already.
Enough of this. Wash is the damn commanding officer here and, much as Shannon likes to pretend it's not the case sometimes, he's not ignoring her today. She shoulders her weapon, stands up. Shoves him away again when he tries to help, and meets his eyes when he stands to match her.
"You're going," she tells him. "Takes the north-east exit. I'll draw their fire, and buy you the time."
"Wash..." But his eyes are full of Elizabeth. His children. He thinks Wash is dying, and she's not going to correct him. He knows how this should go.
"Terra Nova has a lot of soldiers," Wash tells him, "Go save your freakishly brilliant wife and kids for us, ok?"
She goes before he can make another protest. A long moment, and she hears his footsteps retreating north-east. Finally doing the smart thing. Wonders never cease.
It doesn't take her long to find enemy soldiers to help her cause the needed distraction. A big, shiny, dozen-men-to-one-slightly-maimed-woman distraction. She'd said she'd draw their fire, and Alicia Washington knew how to keep a promise in style.
Time and sense go kind of funny in battle. They stretch and snape, fade and then hit like a battering ram. Her focus narrows down to when to duck, where to fire. She doesn't feel her injured side or arm, just the pressure on her trigger finger and the flow of her muscles. Sonic blasts boom around her. They explode across the narrow space, and her vision pops like a kaleidoscope, all ripples and rainbows. The men are good shots, well trained by the best money can buy. Pity for them, Wash was trained by better. By the best, period. First by her mom, and then by Taylor. Her mom is dead, and they foolishly sent Taylor back here to be their enemy, so they're pretty much shit out of luck.
She lets them think she's making for the other exit, that they've got her pinned between them and the east door to the outside. The door she'd be suicidal to open. She can hear the Rexes thundering out there. She and Shannon had been listening to them for hours, prowling the perimeter. Like Nicos - like sharks - they go nuts for blood and guts. There's plenty of that in the air today. The tang of copper, the screaming guns, the chaos and clanging of war is driving them frantic.
She waits until the laser sights skim round the corner, and then she raises her arms high, her sonic dangling harmlessly from its strap. "Ok!" she yells, hoarse from the smoke. "I'm done. I'm standing down!"
Someone screams for her to drop the gun. She does, hearing it clang to the ground. Some of the laser sights track where it falls in the dark. Nice of them to make it easy for her to find it later. Thoughtful of just enough of them to lower their guard to do so.
The Rexes throw themselves at the door again. She's not sure if they're hearing the yelling ("Step back from the weapon! On your knees! Hands on your head! Touch your toes!") or the clang of her weapon. Doesn't really matter. They know there's fresh meat in here. She knows there's no escape through that door. Her captors know it.
She takes a big step back from her weapon, like the nice screaming gentleman asked. Nathaniel never needed to make such a damn racket to get something done. Places her hands on her head, resting just against the door.
The door she'd be suicidal to open.
Hey, she was trained by the best. Not the brightest.
She'd entered her override code before they rounded the corner. As she shows them her back and starts to lower herself to the ground, her bent knees give her the leverage to haul that sucker of a door right open and swing herself behind it as a metric fuckload of roaring reptile punches through into the compound.
God, I love dinosaurs.
From the sounds of things, dinosaurs love tonight's dinner menu. Wash pulls the door as flush with the wall as it will go, not giving a crap about crushing her toes or nose or hell, even her lungs. She just presses herself tighter to the wall, prays not to be noticed, tries not to picture what she's currently hearing, and hopes that the waves of guilt and disgust currently flowing over her will be short lived.
They are. Because the next thing she thinks of is Nathaniel. Screw these guys.
She could get out through the door now. The Rexes are making their way further into the compound, hunting down their fleeing prey. She's not going anywhere, though. Never had any intention of leaving this place. Out there, it's dark and chaotic and she doesn't have a damn clue where Nathaniel might be at this moment, and she'd never reach him on foot anyway.
But Wash knows Lucas is here. And that means that soon, Nathaniel will be here too. She's not going to miss being at his side when that happens because she was running around outside like a lost fresh.
She pushes back the door and moves out into the now silent hall. She ignores the carnage on the floor like it's so much fresh steak. Her sonic has escaped most of the spatter, and she even picks up a few spares. Nice tech, too. Score.
The way to the compound's center mapped in her head, Wash reloads her weapons and straps one to each arm, dual-wielding for maximum range. Her little distraction should have been enough for Shannon to get out. She prays it is so. That he makes it back to his family.
She moves out. Her family is on his way to her. She'll be ready.