TW - Mentions of sexual abuse. Sensitive topics.

NOVA
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07/06/2002 - 2pm
Phoenix, Arizona
Redhawk Base
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"Novella?" Dad exclaims with a gasp.

"Yeah, hey Dad."

"Novella, where on Gods green earth have you been? It's been a whole month since I last heard from you."

"Here and there, the job is intense. Working in the FBI is tough, y'know?" Only a half lie, I guess I'm in some sort of agency.

"Of course, honey. I can imagine. Well, if it's of any interest to you, I got a new prosthetic leg." He says enthusiastically, making me grin at the phone.

"That's really cool, Dad. Does Debbie's son still call you iron-man?" I chuckle. Debbie, his wife, already had two children before she met my Dad.

"Of course. I think that name is going to stick around for a while." He laughs down the phone, before stopping abruptly for a good few seconds.

"Dad? You still there?" I question, looking at the phone screen to see if the line disconnected.

"Yeah, honey. I'm still here. I just remembered something that I needed to talk to you about."

I already don't like where this is going.

"Oh? And what's that?" Hesitancy is laced right through my words. There's another tense silence.

"It's about your Mom."

My vision turns fuzzy at them words, legs backing down and into the nearest chair. Seventeen and a half years since I've heard anything about her. My hand that's gripping the phone starts shaking.

So the news about Dad's new prosthetic leg came before information about my Mom? Was he just scared to tell me straight off of the bat?

"Dad, just tell me. Right now." I speak with utter urgency, whole body tensing up. She's dead, they found her body.

"They found her wedding ring."

Not what I was expecting.

"The homeowners of our old farmhouse found it in the yard when they were renovating, underneath a little bit of soil near our old vegetable patch. They only spotted it because it was glinting when they were digging the place up. After all these years, I finally know what really happened."

"How the hell do we even know it's her ring?" I mutter in disbelief. There's absolutely no fucking way. No way in hell she'd do that to my Dad, to me.

"I got a call from the owners, since they knew about her disappearance. I had them mail out the ring to me. It is definitely hers, Novella."

Oh my God. Nothing could have prepared me for the wave of emotions flooding through my entire system. I don't know if I'm relieved, or furious. Relieved in the fact she is out there alive; raging at the fact she left us without any form of closure. Surely not. That wasn't my Mom. Was it?

"How are you feeling, Dad?" I murmur, despite the fact I literally feel like I'm about to either punch a hole in the wall, or just black out entirely.

"I'm okay, honey. I've got my new life now. Of course, I've thought about your Mother every day since 1984; I'm just relieved to have closure. I hope you can finally have some sort of closure too, sweetheart."

Closure? Closure?

"Yeah, yeah. . . I'm sure I will." A downright lie. My heart is beating so fucking fast and the room is spinning around me as though I'm drunk.

Drunk is definitely something I need to get after this. Thank the fucking Lord above I'm not on duty from after 5pm. A bottle of Jack Daniels has never seemed so appealing.

"Honey, I've got to go. I'm dropping Benny off at school in 20 minutes. I'll speak to you soon, okay Novella? I love you so much."

I forget that my Dad has a new life and isn't trapped in a time capsule like I am.

"Okay, I love you too Da-"

The line is cut off before I even finish my fucking sentence. Amazing. One phone call a month, and he cuts me off. Right after dropping that bomb about my Mom.

Screw that, I'm calling him back.

The line hums ominously. No response.

Fighting my urge to just launch the phone at the wall, I slam it down against the table before pacing out of the room boiling with ferocity. I give a nod to Rhys who was next in line before power-walking to nowhere in particular; avoiding every single person at all costs. Luckily, I'm just on call duty.

—

🎼Apocalypse- Cigarettes After Sex

—

As soon as I'm inside my cabin at 5pm, I've got my hand hooked right under my bed; feeling for that saviour bottle of JD. 

The bottle top is off as soon as I grab the neck, pouring it into my mouth and feeling it scald the back of my throat.

Within what feels like half an hour, but is actually three hours; I'm drunkenly storming around my cabin in a endless spiral of utter rage. I'm absolutely unhinged right now, maybe me and Nicholas are more alike than I thought.

She fucked us over, for what? A new life? A new fucking life?

My eye catches sight of my family picture on my bed-stand as I grab ahold of it, lashing it against the wall for some sort of anger relief. It slams to the floor with a loud smash; glass shattering all over the ground. Glass shards. Broken glass, the remnants a completely broken family.

"Shields?" A voice calls from outside my door.

The fuck? Nope. Not now.

"Not here." I murmur drunkenly.

"Obviously you fucking are since you've just spoken. The hell was that noise?"

"I dropped my drink," I slur, definitely not convincingly.

"I doubt one of the goddamn paper cups we use at base would have made that kind of noise. Stop lying and open this fucking door."

"Leo. Fuck. Off. " I bite out.

"Open this damn door or I'm breaking it down."

Oh my God. I shove the bottle of JD underneath my bed-stand and stumble over to the door, opening it an inch.

And I'm nearly knocked to my ass as Leo comes bulldozing into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Where is it." He doesn't question, he demands.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I murmur, looking away from him in my best efforts to sound as sober as possible.

Without any sort of warning, he storms over and grabs my chin forcefully to make me look up at him. Giving him a glimpse of my hazy eyes.

"You're drunk." He leans forward, and my eyes widen. "I can smell the damn whiskey on you. What the fuck, Nova?" He seethes.

"I'm not, I'm fine." I wave him off, probably completely unconvincing once again.

He sucks in a sharp, impatient breath. "Show me where that fucking alcohol is or I'm getting North."

Oh no.

Not that it would matter since this is my free time, but I doubt that seeing me, one of the Captains, absolutely wasted wouldn't be particularly appealing for my reputation.

"Under the bed-stand." I admit quietly, without any hesitation this time. He lets go of my chin and shoves me aside like the gentleman he is as he strides over, stepping around the broken glass and grabbing the neck of the bottle.

"You're being fucking serious? You goddamn liability. How are you even still standing? That's almost a half of the fucking bottle, Nova!" He stares at the remains of the golden liquor in disbelief, then back at me.

I take a sharp breath in and squeeze my eyes shut momentarily, crossing my arms to scratch my elbows awkwardly. "My bad."

He glares at me, absolutely raging.

"Care to explain this damn mental breakdown and why your family photograph has felt the wrath?" He hisses.

"Well, not particularly. I'm not in the mood to explain anything." My nose twitches in irritation.

He grimaces and shakes his head, aggressively placing the bottle onto my bed stand. "Okay, I'm not asking nicely, Nova. Tell me. Right. Now."

"Oh, for fucks sake." I lose my shit. "Because you were right! Turns out my Mom actually did just ditch us all them years ago." It spills up immediately and accidentally. Leo's expression morphs from furious to shocked.

"The hell do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said! They found her fucking wedding ring! She obviously tossed it right off of her finger, and tossed herself right 'outta the family whilst she was at it."

Leo is silent.

"Go on," I bark out a self-deprecating laugh, lashing my hand forward and in his direction. "Tell me I deserved it. Tell me again how I'm a waste of space here."

"Nova." My name is all he whispers to begin with, his jaw hanging ajar. "You didn't deserve that."

I say nothing. I'm not sad, and I'm not going to cry. But if it was possible, steam would be blowing out of my ears like I'm a goddamn train.

I also feel really, really fucking nauseous all of a sudden. My hands are clammy, and I wipe a bead of sweat rolling down from my hairline.

"Fuck." I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose and fucking willing the nausea to vanish. I guess I've got nobody to blame but myself for drowning my goddamn sorrows with whiskey.

Leo is completely speechless. He rolls his lips together in thought of what to say.

But I'm guessing the nausea must be visible on my now-ashen face since he strides over to me and grips my waist with both hands, ushering me right to my bathroom before kneeling me over the toilet bowl.

"You're going to be sick. Just throw it up." He demands, as though I'm just going to spew on cue.

It worked, as within a second I'm vomiting. I hear a loud sigh from Leo as he actually rakes my hair back, bunching it up behind my head.

"Look away." I manage to hiss before throwing up some more. I don't know if he's looking away or not since my head is shoved right into the toilet bowl. I fucking hope he is.

I've may as well have just taken a shovel out back and dug my own grave.

"You're a fucking mess," He mumbles.

"Takes one to know one, right?" I snip in-between retching, clutching the edge of the toilet seat like it's a lifeline.

"I can't exactly blame you, I think if I found out that my missing Mom of seventeen and a-something years just simply ditched me, I'd be pretty fucked off. Especially if my Brother had just upped-and-left the year before."

I nod, head scraping against the edges of the seat as after what seems like an eternity, the vomiting stops. I roll away from the toilet bowl and onto my back.

"I don't care about him. He used to make his friends assault me for fun. Hard to care when somebody treated you that way. " I murmur out of the blue, closing my eyes; definitely not aware of what in God's name I've just said.

I've never told anyone.

"What?"

"Nothing." I bite, backtracking immediately. I can't see his reaction since I've got my eyes squeezed shut.

He hooks his arms underneath my shoulders and drags me to my feet, filling up my toothbrush holder with water before sitting me against the washbasin.

"Look at me, Nova."

I swear maintaining eye-contact when you're wasted is a challenge in itself. My hazy eyes eventually pull up and meet his intense gaze as he shoves the makeshift cup into my hand. I sip at it like it's my last delicate drop.

"What did you just say?" He speaks in a completely serious tone of voice. One that leaves no room for lies.

"I said I used to get on just fine with my brothers friends." I murmur against the rim of the 'cup'. I actually think I might have pulled this off-

"That isn't what you fucking said. You said your Brother got his friends to assault you for fun." The words fire sharply from his mouth, slashing against my face.

"Then why did you ask if you heard me the first time?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"How old were you?" He demands. I want to get down and off this washbasin, into my bed and never speak to anyone again. Leo's humongous fucking frame is blocking my wishes, unfortunately.

I've dug my grave by opening my goddamn mouth, now I've got to lie in it. We're left in silence for a good few seconds as I'm deciding wether or not to be honest.

"Started when I was five." I eventually admit. "It got worse as time went on."

He grimaces and squints his eyes slightly, shaking his head before looking back at me. "Fucking hell. You may be a pain in the ass, but you did not deserve that. Nobody deserves that."

"Thanks?" My mumbling comes out as more of a question. Obviously I didn't fucking deserve that.

"Didn't your Dad do anything to stop it?" He asks, leaning forward slightly. I grab a cloth hanging on the side of the washbasin, wiping it across my mouth.

As intolerable as I find Leo, I don't particularly want him staring at any fucking sick that might be on my face.

"He didn't know. Nobody did, until now." I admit frustratedly with a slur, although my drunkenness is wearing off slightly after my vomiting session.

"I'm seriously the first person you've told about this?" He asks, voice laced with shock of the whole situation. "Nova, I-"

"Don't think you're special. You caught me at a rare vulnerability." I hiss, interrupting him.

"This has made me feel anything but special, Nova. Knowing I'm seriously the only person you've told in what, twenty years?" He says quietly.

"Something like that." I roll my shoulders. He lets out a long sigh, the bathroom left in a deafening silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His hushed voice breaks through the quietness.

"No. I don't even know why I told you, to be honest. Think I'm just having a midlife crisis." I actually laugh.

"Well, I'd hope that twenty-five isn't the middle of your life." He says quietly.

How do I keep ending up in these fucking emotional moments with him? Am I really that unhinged?

"I don't know anything about your life," I shrug, changing the subject.

"You never asked," he replies, stepping away from the sink and finally letting me have my personal space back.

"Well, I'm asking now." I say quickly, but with curiosity.

"Alright, there's not really a whole lot to it. Grew up in Nebraska. Middle of two brothers, eldest is five years older, youngest was four years younger. Family was stable. I was set to go to military camp in Queensland. Younger brother died when he was twelve, terrorist related massacre at the Tillmans Mall."

He speaks swiftly and urgently as though his words are on a ticking time bomb. I can barely keep up with what he's saying since I'm still pretty drunk, although I pick up on one thing.

Tillmans Mall massacre. I saw that on the news when I was fourteen. Killed fifteen people, youngest was twelve. I hadn't heard about anything like that happening before (apart from my Dad's Vietnam stories), so I remember it perfectly.

—
"Jeez, kiddo. I don't know how I feel about you going to mall's anymore." He sighs, shaking his head as we sit in our living area, eyes glued to the TV.

"It's fine, Dad. You've taught me all the skills I need to know, I bet I could take down that bad guy in no time." I say confidently, a young boys picture flashing up.

"Youngest victim was 12 year old Jaques Hendrix, who's family has described him as 'the little light of their lives,'" the news anchor announces, a zoomed in picture of the young boys face appearing behind him on a screen.

"My God, that poor family. I can't imagine something like that happening to you." Dad mumbles.

"Isn't that the whole reason you taught me how to handle myself?" I question, peeling my eyes away from the TV and looking up at him. He nods and scruffs the top of my hair before switching the channel.

"Yeah, kiddo. That's exactly why."
—

"Jaques." I suddenly speak. I don't even know if Leo has been talking the whole time. His head whips around to face me.

"How did-?"

"He was all over the news. I remember watching the report with my Dad." I say softly, noticing Leo's jaw clench as he glances away from me.

"Yeah, I guess he was all over the news." He whispers, voice a sharp contrast to the look on his face.

I stare at him for a few seconds. Seeing a different side to the man who is so fucking awful to me at times. A vulnerable side. The way he tips his head to the ceiling and blinks a few times, as though willing some tears to roll back into his eyes.

I hesitate for a moment, and then I reach my hand to my side and skim it on his corded forearm, just brushing the wing of his hawk tattoo. I wait for him to whack it away, but he surprisingly doesn't.

So I rest it down completely. "Leo, I'm so sorry," I whisper, in a hope to be somewhat reassuring. "That's awful."

His gaze whips back towards me, as though he can't believe I have the capability to be sympathetic. I get nothing but a grunt in response. I guess that's just Leo.

"So that's why you went into this line of work? As some way of vengeance?" I ask curiously, to which he nods ever so slightly.

I don't really know what to say right now since I'm still pretty damn drunk. I just speak the first thing that comes to mind.

"I guess we've all got to be at least a little bit fucked up for this line of work."