spring

TW - Mentions of suicide.

NOVA
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20/04/2003
Alto, New Mexico
Silvering Base
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"So, I thought it was a damn good idea to start drinking my whiskey! Didn't consider the fact that I'd be more focused on the 'Risky Business' dance than the damn flight the next morning."

Yamato exclaims to the new recruits we're training.

Avery Whitlock, an eighteen year old girl with shoulder length hair blonde hair, a hell of an aim, and green eyes like my own.

Noah and Joseph Wolfe, nineteen year old twin brothers with jet black hair, tanned skin and golden eyes. They may look identical, but their personalities couldn't be more opposite if they tried.

They all erupt into laughter, echoing around our food hall.

"Didn't you get hungover?" Noah snickers.

"Very," Yamato groans, rubbing his eyes as they continue to chuckle.

"How about you Officer Shields? Did you join in on the 'festivities'?" Avery grins, turning her attention towards me.

~
He yanks me towards him as we linger outside of the door, hand travelling into my hair as he guides my lips against his.

He pulls away after a moment and sighs, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I'm really going to miss you."
~

"Just Nova is fine, Avery. Yeah, I did join in with the 'whiskey-swigging' as Yamato says, also unfortunately witnessed his Risky Business dance." I force a grin, gesturing to him with my head.

"Damn, it sounds like it was quite the interesting time out there," Joe mumbles, deep in thought.

"Tell us about it," Yamato yawns.

It really was quite an interesting time out there.

It's been fifty days since we got back from Panay.
Everything's seemed quiet, there hasn't been any missions as of now for us Falcons.

And still no fucking sign of Nicholas.

We've been working alongside the Crows and BlueJays to track him down, but there's been no damn luck.

I guess he became an expert of keeping under the radar after all these years.

Rumour has it that he's already dead, that he bled out after Leo stabbed him that day and is decomposing in a ditch somewhere.

As much as I'd love that to be true, I have a feeling that it's not the case at all.

I've never been more fucking vigilant. I haven't had a full nights sleep since we touched down. The second we set foot in Alto, everything started to sink in.

The losses, the trauma. All of it.

The idea that Mom was murdered by Nicholas seemed surreal in Panay, and it's only etched into my reality now that we're back in the States.

"Yeah, Shields over here went through it," Yamato gestures, slicing me out of my thoughts.

It's been kept on low radar in our division that Nicholas is my brother. The only people here who know are Yamato, Vincent and Dr Greene.

To everybody else, he's just a 'very dangerous man' who we need to stop as urgently as possible.

"We heard. Didn't you get poisoned and stabbed?" Noah tilts his head, Avery slaps his arm.

"That is so inappropriate of you to ask," she hisses under her breath.

It does trigger me, of course it does; but there won't ever come a day that it doesn't. The best thing I've been informed to do is to 'deal' with the memories, face them head on. Accept it.

And somehow, it's helped.

"Luckily not on the same day, Noah," I force a laugh.

"What did it feel like?" Joe leans forward.

I guess they're just curious eighteen/twenty year olds after all. When I was their age and just getting started out, I would have asked the same thing.

"What one? Being poisoned or getting stabbed?" I tilt my head, as though it's an everyday question.

"Both?" He whispers, pulling a confused face at my nonchalance.

"I technically didn't get poisoned as such, it was an attempted 'lethal overdose'. I didn't feel much for that long before I lost consciousness. It was like choking on air, feeling insanely dizzy; basically felt as though I was being suffocated," I shrug.

They all stare at me with their mouths hanging ajar.

"Didn't Nolan take you into the forest or something?" Avery gapes, now just as curious as the boys.

Jed Nolan's name has slipped out of somebody's mouth every day since we got back. 'The traitor of Fleetwood' is the title he's gained.

"Yeah, he did. It was part of his scheme," I mumble.

"How did you even survive?" Joe gasps.

Leo Hendrix.

"I got lucky. Abe, the boy from Altashih who we were holding at the time, gave it up to a comrade that Nolan was the insider. Luckily that comrade found me before I was dead," I sigh.

I've done everything to not think about him, tried everything.

Nothing's worked as of yet.

I haven't heard much about him since the morning we had that argument, only his name when the other members of our group have spoken about him.

I've only referred to him as a 'comrade', and I plan to do so until I actually have to talk about him.

Unfortunately I think that is the direction this conversation is headed, since he's been involved in both of my near death experiences.

"That is lucky. And how about getting, well, stabbed? How did you survive that in the chest?"

"That was by Las, right? The man everybody is still looking for? I can't imagine how scary that was," they all bombard me with questions, shuddering.

It was more fucking scary when I realised he was my brother.

"I didn't feel much to start with then, either. I had so much adrenaline in the situation, the pain only kicked in after a few minutes. I blacked out not long after from blood loss," I say.

"You really did get lucky on that one, Shields. You're lucky Hendrix was there to stem it at least a little," Yamato pats my shoulder.

Goddamnit.

"Hendrix? As in Leo Hendrix from the Hawks?" Noah tilts his head.

"Yeah, him," I shrug, as though he's not the one who's had my feelings in a chokehold.

Just as Noah's mouth opens to ask another question, my goddamn saviour of a watch beeps. I don't hesitate to fly up from the table, feeling the now familiar lightheadedness.

"Right, well I've got to go for a meeting with Vincent. Enjoy lunch and I'll see you all later for training," I wave, already halfway out of the hall.

I'm sure I pulled that off, I don't think they would suspect that I was lying.

I don't have a meeting with Vincent at all.

"How are you finding the Venlafaxine, Nova? Still having the side effects?" Dr Greene asks, settling into the seat opposite my own.

"Yeah, the side effects are still there," I glance at the floor.

"Any in particular causing more trouble?"

Where the fuck do I start?

"The light-headedness is one of the worst, it's been causing issues with my training," I groan, leaning back into my chair.

"Ah, Vincent did inform me you experienced syncope on Monday. It's most likely definitely related to the increased dose," she writes some notes on her pad, occasionally glancing up at me over her glasses.

That wasn't my finest moment, blacking out in the gun range.

"Is there not a different one I can try? I feel that this is doing more harm than good-"

"-It's only been three weeks, Nova. You've only been on 225mg for the past 6 days. We need to wait it out, we can't have you switching medications every few weeks." She interrupts, shaking her head.

She's an expert in her field of psychiatry, understanding the brain. She's just not an expert in people skills.

"Is there at least anything I can take to help with the dizziness?"

"We could maybe try you on some Fludrocortisone, see if that helps at all. It's only a temporary solution, however. The lightheadedness will fix itself in it's own time." She nods, making a note.

"Better than nothing," I force a laugh that's so obviously fucking fake, "how about the insomnia? Can I take something for that?"

She frowns, pushing her glasses on top of her head. "There's Trazodone, but I don't want to constantly pump new medications into your system. Plus, I'd need to make sure there's no interactions,"

"So it's either I feel dizzy or don't goddamn sleep?" I sigh.

"What is impacting you more significantly at the moment?"

"Probably the dizziness, especially since we're training with guns, don't want to accidentally shoot someone." I mumble.

"Well," she chews on her lip before continuing.

"I'm going to start you on the Fludrocortisone whilst you adjust to the higher dose of Venlafaxine. When the lightheadedness has settled on its own, we will swap and introduce Trazodone instead. Does that sound okay?"

Whatever foreign shit she just said makes no sense to me, but she's the medical professional after all. I'll just trust what she says.

"Yeah, sounds fine by me," I shrug as we fall into silence, only broken by the sound of her pen shifting against the paper.

"Now, you know I have to ask you this every session. How are the suicidal thoughts?"

I knew this question was coming.

"They're okay, not too bad,"

They're awful.

"Any urges?"

"None recently,"

Every day.

I can't be fucking honest about this, not considering my position as Co-captain. We're working with guns constantly.

If they were aware that I had the capability to blow my own brains out, they'd probably keep me away from all of it.

Dr Greene has already almost confiscated my fucking S&W.

"What I have been interested in exploring is something that happened during your time in Panay. You mentioned in our previous sessions that you experienced a breakdown after seeing the sketch of Nicholas, no?" She tilts her head.

"Yeah, that's right,"

"Well, what helped you come down from that without any medications?" She leans forward in anticipation of my answer.

Leo Hendrix.

"I had somebody with me. They helped," I murmur.

"Oh, is this person in the Falcons?"

"No, he's from another division,"

"I've worked within the other divisions in the past. I might know who it is if I have a name," she smiles softly.

I suppose there's nothing much to lose really.

"Leo Hendrix, from the Hawk group."

She raises her eyebrows as though she recognises his name immediately. Maybe she's worked with him. She couldn't tell me if she had though, confidentiality and all.

"Ah, Leo. I know him, lovely man," she nods, gazing at the ceiling in thought.

I simply hum.

"Well, it's good to know that you are able to find comfort within other people," she states, clicking her pen and probably writing that down.

She thinks she's got a journal of my mind, she has no idea how many pages are actually missing.

"Well, I think that's all for today Nova. Shall we schedule another appointment for in four days time?" She raises her eyebrows, switching the notepad for her diary.

"Yeah, that's alright with me. Thank you,"

"Okay, Nova. I'll see you then," a small smile flashes across her wrinkled face as I carefully stand up, leaving her office.

It's already starting to get warm again here in Alto. The trees surrounding the barbed walls of base are starting to flourish in lush greenery once again.

What I love most about springtime is the sky.

The stars always seem to shine more vividly than usual, providing it's not cloudy.

If the night is clear, I sit out the back of my cabin, facing the barbed fences. It's a similar place to where Leo would sit in the Panay base.

The place that he showed me.

Our argument didn't change anything any of the things I feel for him. Maybe it changed things for him; well, it obviously did since he didn't fucking bother to say goodbye.

But my feelings are wedged in place.

Maybe it's the fact distance makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe it's the fact I didn't get full closure on where we stand with each other.

Whatever it is, it's one of the things that's been eating me alive for the past month and a half.

"Right, that's a wrap for today," I yawn, gesturing for the new recruits to pack up their guns in the training area.

"How come you never let anybody use that gun?" Joe asks, gesturing to my thigh.

"It's a personal one," I chuckle, taking it out of his holster and passing it to him.

"I didn't even realise we could carry guns around base," Avery raises her eyebrows.

"This is fucking America, Avery! You can carry a gun anywhere," Noah shrugs.

"Doesn't mean you should," I grin. All three of them turn to me with confused expressions.

"But, you-"

"That gun has been strapped to my thigh for every operation as far back as I can remember. Vincent just lets me carry it because I've been around for years, and because I'm a captain. The rules have tightened since, well-"

"-since Nolan?" Avery whispers, finishing my sentence.

"Yeah, I guess how flawlessly he blended in made everybody a little more aware," I shrug.

"Nolan's dead, right?" Joe tilts his head, passing the pistol back into my possession as Noah bursts into laughter.

"Of course he's fucking dead, you idiot. Otherwise he'd be on the 'hit list'," he gives his brother a shove.

"How did he die?" Avery questions.

"I blew his brains out," I shrug.

They all halt in their movements, spinning their heads to look at me in surprise.

"I bet that was a nice feeling of revenge," Noah grins after a moment.

"Honestly? It was," I snicker.

It was probably one of the more gruesome sights I've seen in my career. It was one of the only ones that gave me a complete sense of satisfaction, that balanced out the scales.

"I'd love to hear more of your stories, Nova. Your life already seems to have been so interesting," Joe marvels.

Interesting in a shit way, yeah.

"I wouldn't know where to start. Although, once you three are all trained, you'll have similar stories to tell." I smile, kneeling to help Avery close the final case of artillery.

"Right, we'll go over stealth tomorrow. 10am sharp," I push myself up from my crouch.

They all nod in unison as I wave, heading out towards my cabin for the night.

"100mg, 200mg, 225mg,"

I count the dose out loud, knocking the pills down my throat with some leftover whiskey before wedging a cigarette between my lips.

Ever since Tara gave me a cigarette in Panay, I've been craving one every day. I know for a fact Vincent likes to smoke like a damn chimney in his office, so he won't give a fuck that I'm doing it in my cabin.

To no surprise, my mind wanders to its usual location, Leo.

I wonder what he's doing right now.

Does he still think about me the way I always think about him?

With how handsome he is, it's probably easy for him in finding a new woman to play around with.

He said it himself that he's a 'damn good liar', he could've just been lying about all those things he said to me.

He probably was, looking back at it.

No matter how hard I've tried, I can't get his face out of my mind.

I especially can't get the image of his face between my legs out of my mind.

Before I can get any more ridiculous, the telephone in my cabin begins to ring. I drop the stump of my cigarette into the empty bottle of whiskey, climbing off of my bed.

I grab onto my cabinet to steady myself, lightheadedness washing over me for a few seconds before I gain my composure.

It's not normal at all for my telephone to ring during this time. I'm off duty.

You only get called off duty if it's about something urgent.

Especially when it's fucking midnight.

I speed towards the phone, picking it up at the last second before the ring runs out.

"Hello?"

"Shields, I need you to come to my office right now."

It's Vincent.

"Will be right there, what's it about-"

"I'll explain everything when you're here. It's a damn code red Shields, just come over as soon as possible," he interrupts, line falling dead on his side as he puts down the phone.

I instantly grab the first pair of cargos in sight, wriggling them on and yanking my arms through a jacket to wear over my pyjamas.

My heart starts to race.

A Code Red.

The phrase only gets used to describe the most urgent types of situations.

I swing open the door of my cabin, facing the spring rain hammering from the midnight sky as I jog across the empty base.

I knock on the door of his office. To my surprise, Yamato pulls it open from the inside and steps back to let me in.

I fall into a seat, ripping down my hood as Yamato perches next to me. Vincent scratches above his eyepatch and takes a sharp breath in, standing up to his feet.

"I don't know how you're going to take this, Shields," he grumbles, clearly furious himself over what the issue is.

"Well, what is it?" My heart thuds in my chest, goosebumps sprouting on the nape of my neck.

No response, I'm simply being drowned in a complete pool of silence.

"Please, just fucking tell me," I urge, fingers digging into the sides of my seat as water drips down my face.

What if it's Leo?

What if something fucking happened to Leo?

He heaves out a sigh, clenching his wrinkled jaw.

"It's Nicholas, he's gotten into the US."

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