Uncaged

Jayce made a familiar walk down the hallway leading to the cells as she had over the past several days. But today, she had a bounce in her step, though she couldn't say why. The crew had all settled into a routine, no longer having to sit on their asses and watch the girl; instead, they checked on her at least once every couple of hours to make sure she was still breathing, that she hadn't hurt herself, and most importantly that she hadn't found a way out of her cage.

There was a wary trust forming under the surface. As they had continued to feed her, and even clothe her, she had opened up to having the crew around. She had even acquiesced to Doc Strong treating her injuries inside the cell, although she was still jumpy at the notion of being touched. For her own sake, and the Doc's safety, he was never without someone watching over his shoulder... just in case. They suspected she knew why she was in her current predicament, but with no verbal exchanges as of yet, they couldn't take any chances of another outburst.

Jayce, however, decided that with her old man away for the day, there was no better time to take a leap of faith, and she wore a cheeky smile as she carefully approached the cell door, peeking in to find the girl sitting upright on the cot, legs pulled into her chest as she stared out the barred window into the blue skies. She almost seemed peaceful, but there was still the occasional involuntary twitch. Whatever was in her system was slowly working its way out, according to Doc Strong's tests. With the amount of sedatives he'd given her early on, there was really no way definitive way to tell, but her cognitive scans pointed to traces of a crude cocktail of uppers and downers. Whoever held the chains over the poor girl was amping her up to perform during the day, and putting her down again at night, with a heavy dose of hallucinogens in between to keep her susceptible to influence; and based on the damage he saw, this regimen had been going on for years, so for her to have weened off of it so quickly, suffice to say she was doing okay.

Her ears perked up, noticing the fall of Jayce's boots, but she didn't turn to look. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she otherwise gave no visible acknowledgement that she knew she wasn't alone. Jayce leaned against the bars, flipping her hair out of her face as she spoke in a gentle tone, "Heya... ya hungry?"

The girl's head slowly turned, her eyes meeting Jayce's as the corners of her mouth twitched. She shook her head loose of whatever was rattling around as she reached for the metal tray sitting on the floor and brought it over. She knew the routine by now, crouching down to slide it through the small opening in the bottom of the door before she turned back to the cot. Jayce caught her by surprise, "Mm-mm, no more o' that. Come an' eat with us..."

The girl turned again, confusion written on her face as she watched Jayce punch in the code and pull the door open with a crash that echoed through the hall. She didn't know what to do, standing still in the middle of the cell. Was it a test? Was it a trick? She couldn't tell, but what she did know is she saw a kind smile and a hand reaching out for her, from which she instinctively backed away.

Baby steps..., Jayce thought as she slowly pulled back her hand, her face settling somewhere between a smile and a frown, but altogether uncertain. Still, her eyes said all that needed to be said, You can trust me...

The girl took a cautious step forward, and then another. Jayce stepped back, giving her a wide berth and shoving the cage door all the way open. The girl looked to either side and up at the reinforced frames, expecting at any second the door would close on her again; but with her final step, she was on the other side. She was uncaged. At any moment, she could have taken off in the opposite direction, and she knew Jayce knew it. She knew her host was placing trust in her, but she couldn't fathom why. And so she stood, awkwardly, the cropped tank shirt and cargo pants they'd given her hanging loose from her smaller frame. She tilted her head down, her shoulders sagging inward as she brought one arm over the other and started rubbing up and down. She didn't know what to do with herself, her eyes darting all over with trepidation.

Jayce stepped forward, taking the lead as she said, "C'mon, 's okay... let's go eat."

The girl turned to follow, taking one step, and then another, still expecting something horrible would happen. Jayce urged her, stopping to let her catch up as she reassured her, "I promise nothin'll happen. Aren't ya hungry?"

There was sincerity in her tone, but the girl couldn't help feeling skeptical. Still, she followed Jayce, step by step, until they had cleared the hallway into the main hangar. It was more spacious than she remembered, although she remembered her brief encounter outside the infirmary as little more than wanting to tear Jackson a new asshole as he pointed a weapon at her. Unlike all the rest, he'd only stopped by once to check on her, and he said nothing. He just sat for a while and watched. And then he left. She sensed something in him at that time, something she felt in herself... something dark and unhinged. She felt the conflict in every fiber of his being to hold it together.

The afternoon sun was filling the dark spaces of the hangar from the massive open overhead doors at either end and through small windows in the rafters. It seemed at first glance as though each member of the crew had their own area. In one corner was Jayce's workbenches, tools strewn about around an oil pit and auto-lift with several older cars and a single torn-down motorcycle parked out of the way.

At the far end by one of the openings was parked Addie's pride and joy, Sheila; an unmarked and stripped down Zetatech Valgus. While she preferred Militech AVs from her time in their employ, she had a dark history with the corp... so she wasn't about to complain as long as she had something to fly... and that she did. A present from Saul Bright's family when immediate payment in cold hard cash wasn't an option, this sleek and downright gorgeous aerodyne had served the crew well in their endeavors. The body panels were all finished in matte black reflective coating, with accents of orange and yellow thrown in to pay tribute to Addie's wild side and flair for just the right amount of rebellion. It suited her personality perfectly, and to her earlier words to Jackson, she was an elegant lady in the right hands.

Near to the parked AV was a veritable arsenal of weaponry in all sizes and flavors, from simple handguns to shotguns, assault rifles, and even heavy ordinance. All of it was heavily modified, and all of it kept clean and pristine. The whole ensemble of the hangar's interior was the crew's home and base of operations, and the girl was wide-eyed as she took it all in.

They had crossed halfway through the space, Jayce turning toward the kitchen before she noticed the girl stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes were stuck, staring down the way. But at what?

Jayce turned to look, watching as Bison worked out his frustrations on a suspended syn-leather bag. He was pouring sweat on the ground and stink into the air, every strike followed by a restrained grunt as he shifted and weaved around. The girl was mesmerized, her body almost unconsciously pulling in the same direction. A smirk crept on Jayce's face, and she shifted to walk towards Bison, urging the girl to follow. As they approached, Bison heard the footsteps, turning to smile as he said, "H-Heya ki— WOAH!"

He jumped back several feet at seeing the girl standing in the wide open space, free as a bird to spread her wings... or cut them all to ribbons... and he tried to choose his words carefully as he caught his breath, "W-What's she doing out of the cage?!" Way to go, ya gonk...

The girl retracted inward almost immediately, her eyes dropping to the floor as she took a step back. Jayce stepped in, giving a light shove to Bison's shoulder and hushing him, "C'mon, man... I'm tryin' to show her 's safe here... was goin' to get her some food, but she wouldn't stop starin'."

It took a few seconds for the words to register, but Bison slowly eased his stance, lowering his hands as he considered his options. His mouth curled into a warm smile and he asked, "So... want to go a round or two?"

The girl lifted her head, her eyes meeting Bison's before cutting to Jayce, who just nodded and stepped back. She let her crossed arms fall to her side as she approached the bag, not entirely sure what to do next. Bison stayed off to the side, demonstrating with raised fists, to which the girl jerked away again. He stood there, dumbfounded but entirely understanding, and so he tried to slowly make the motions, bringing his arms up to guard his face and body, nodding to her to do the same, "Just like this, kid... watch what I do and follow, okay?"

The girl carefully slid one foot back into a stance as she brought her arms up, not quite the same as Bison, but she had her own way. He smirked and took a quick jab at the bag, the impact sending the residual sweat and sand flying out as he turned, "Now you."

The girl approached, closing the gap between her and the bag as Bison stepped out of the way. She intuitively leaned forward on the balls of her feet, gauging everyone's response around her, counting off in her head. She almost seemed frozen in place, but before anyone could say anything, a lightning-quick cross from her left hand crashed against the bag, leaving a small fist shape imprinted into the leather. The sound echoed through the space before trailing off, and Bison nodded, "Not bad... hit it again."

The girl was still wary, but she stepped in closer, releasing a jab from her right, prompting Bison to press her, "Again... keep going, kid."

She quickly found her rhythm, delivering combos in rapid succession, the heavy bag swaying with each hit. She was locked in, hissing with each strike. Her stance was undisciplined at best, but she appeared to enjoy it all the same. Her speed built up, the strikes coming quicker as she moved around the bag. Jayce leaned back against a rack of dumbbells with her arms crossed, watching with wonder. Bison was careful to stay out of the girl's way, but he wasn't going anywhere, still slightly skeptical.

And as if to make his point for him, the girl took several steps back, readying herself to launch as her hands articulated, expanding out as the claws shot forward with a shink sound.

Shit!

Bison dove for the bag, managing to push it up and away as the overhead chains rattled, barely clearing a path as the girl charged forward, arms at the ready by her head. She moved right past him in the blink of an eye before skidding to a stop as her eyes cut to him, narrowed and burning. Jayce had already jumped up from the rack, ready to step in if needed and wondering if she'd made a bad call.

The girl eased up her stance as Bison spoke intently, carefully holding his hand out, "No. Claws... fists only, okay?"

Her jaw clenched at first as she looked away, disappointed. In only a few seconds, she cut back to Bison with a slight wry smirk as the claws retracted. Something in her glare told Bison it was time to get the fuck out of the way, and so he did, narrowly dodging her onslaught as he lost his footing and fell back. The girl ignored him completely, zeroing in on the bag as she unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, one after the other.

Jayce laughed as she walked over and offered Bison a hand, "What's-a matter, choom? Big bad-ass nomad scared of a girl half his size?"

Bison accepted the hand as he pulled himself up, planting his feet firmly as he shamelessly confessed, "Shit yeah, I am... look at her, man."

The girl was almost possessed, as if all of her pent-up pain was being unleashed on the bag. Beads of sweat formed across her neck and shoulders, a red flush setting in as she kept going, seemingly oblivious to anyone around her. Like Bison earlier, every strike was met with a grunt or a growl, but where Bison's shouts were restrained and focused, the girl's were more like beastly snarls.

Jayce looked up, realizing they weren't alone anymore; Doc Strong had exited the infirmary through the overlapping plastic tarps serving in place of the metal doors that the girl had ruined only a few days prior. He had a wary smirk on his face as he kept his distance, but he was just as captivated as the others in watching the girl run laps around the bag. For as small as she was, she hit even harder than Bison, but it was wildly untamed. They could only assume she'd never really learned how to fight, instead relying on her implanted claws and sheer speed to dominate her opponents. Strong kept turning over Jackson's previous words in his mind in light of the recent discoveries. Were she being forcefully drugged to string her out before a fight, she wouldn't hesitate to charge in like a crazed animal hunting for blood with no regard for herself or anyone else. That sheer willpower was hard to defend against, because it followed no logic or reason. She really was feral.

It also explained the few setbacks he had encountered trying to administer anything to help her sleep or calm her down. The mere sight of a syringe sent her screaming into the corner, clawing at the walls to get as far away as possible. Someone had hurt this girl, and badly... and God help whoever it was if any one of the crew ever caught up to them.

But for the moment, she had something to focus on besides food, something to vent and wear herself out. Maybe..., Strong thought... just maybe she'd actually sleep through the night if she kept at it like this. And so for now, like Jayce and Bison, he watched and waited, completely uninterested for the moment in what Jackson might have to say about it once he got back from the old lady's place.

--

[Northbound, the Badlands]

Every churn of the tires against the crudely carved off-road path kicked up more dust and debris, the wind making sure every bit of it flew into Jackson's face as he navigated through the expansive dunes on his way back to Mother Base. His hat kept most of it out of his hair, and his glasses did the best they could keeping it out of his eyes; the biggest blessing was the shemagh wrapped around his neck and pulled up over his mouth and nose. Sand was a hell of a thing to brush out of one's teeth, and nobody liked hocking up gritty phlegm.

Despite his somewhat lighthearted banter with Dakota on his way out of her garage, Jackson's run-in with the scav had left him in an altered state, a darkness befalling him that he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't a welcome feeling, but it consumed him to his very core. It was the same feeling he had when he confronted the two-bit 'bangers that murdered his wife, and the same feeling he had in the trenches during the War, killing with his bare hands what should have been his own countrymen. His hands were stained, in his own eyes forever red and rusty brown as the blood dried. Try as he might, he could never wash them clean, nor could he scrape enough of it off him. His very soul was tainted, and in times like these, it ate at him like a cancer he couldn't cut out.

There was no doubt in his mind that the scav got exactly what he deserved, what they all deserve. But for Jackson it ran so much deeper. He remembered clear as day standing in front of the motherfucker who took everything from him, who took away the only person that could see through the black to pull him out of it; the one person who loved him no matter what. He remembered the detached look in the kid's eyes. He was fucked up out of his mind and showed absolutely no remorse for his actions. Jackson had to wonder how many other innocents had suffered similar fates. Not that it made it any easier to pull the trigger; the kid's fate was sealed. But in that moment, Jackson felt he was giving all the victims justice, and yet when it was done, when the corpse crumpled over in the sand, all Jackson felt was a void that could never be filled.

He shook his head, trying to keep the tears back as he fought to focus on the road in front of him. He knew these dunes like the back of his hand, but one wrong move could send him flying off and into a ditch. He was nearly home, and that thought alone brought some comfort, but not enough. He needed to be alone, and as much as he didn't want to be around anyone else, he especially didn't want the crew... or Jayce... seeing him like this. They deserved better from someone they looked up to.

Jackson focused up, a wicked shimmy of the ute indicating his uphill ascent over the last tall dune; and as he crested the berm, he felt the warmth and comfort of home as he finally saw the airfield through the clearing dust. He shifted gears, letting the vehicle coast down the hill as he breathed deep with a sigh of relief. He wasn't out of his own head yet, but knowing home was on his side of the horizon certainly didn't hurt matters.

He shifted again, pushing more torque down to the wheels as he leveled out, the vehicle leaving the rough sands to grip the concrete as he accelerated. He was on the last stretch, a weary smile breaking as he put the pedal to the floor. Each redline of the engine was accompanied with a shift up, the bellowing howl resounding in his ears as the hangar and outbuildings grew ever larger with a quickness. He was nearly there... Now!

He cut the steering wheel hard to the left, the back tires screeching to maintain their grip as the vehicle banked onto the runway, the body straining and fishtailing in a beautiful and precise arc before he gunned the gas again. With a final jerk to the right, he slid to a clean stop outside the hangar doors, the engine whining down to a low and muscular purr as he turned to look inside before cutting the ignition. As the vehicle died down, the dust in his wake settling, he pulled down the shemagh covering his face, revealing a cheeky smile as Addie crossed his path with hands covered in grease and carrying turbine parts, "Enjoyin' yourself, hoss?"

The smile quickly receded as Jackson removed his sunglasses, his eyes glowing against the sun beating down. He kicked the door open, holding his hat and careful of the roll bar as he stepped out and stood up straight, towering several inches over Addie as he looked at her beaming face and shrugged, "...eh, no more 'an usual. I miss anythin'?"

Addie's head nodded back, her eyes rolling to follow as she said with some trepidation in her voice, "Go and see for yourself..."

Something in the tone of her voice suddenly had Jackson on edge and he found himself right back where he was only minutes prior, the storm clouds in his head almost blocking out the sun as he removed his hat and stepped carefully, his eyes adjusting to the darker ambiance of the hangar's interior. Doc Strong saw him approaching out of the corner of his eye, and caught the sudden change in his expression as he stared daggers. The Doc was quick to try and head him off, but it was no use as Jackson bluntly interrupted, "What's she doin' out o' the cage?"

"C'mon, Jax... she's not been out of our sight all day...", Strong tried to reassure him, "Jayce thought it'd do some good for her to eat with the rest of us instead of being locked up like an anima—"

"She is an animal, Joshua!", Jackson nearly shouted, his voice carrying just far enough for Jayce and Bison... and the girl... to hear him. The girl stopped her drills on the bag, her entire tanktop soaked through with sweat as she glistened under the ambient sunlight and overhead lamps. An uncomfortable silence fell over the entire hangar, nobody moving a muscle, except for the girl as she slowly turned and stared at Jackson from across the way. His eyes never parted from hers as he pressed his point to Strong, "Ya wan'a know what I foun' out earlier?! She's an attack dog for some wasteland motherfuckers 'at got loose! Tore an entire Raffen Crew an' a handful of Scavs to shreds 'fore they nearly put her down!"

The girl flinched at hearing the words, whether or not she understood them; Jackson's tone cut deep, and Strong tried to reason with him quietly, "She's shown no aggression today... we're giving her a chance..."

"Put her back in the cage...", Jackson said softly, his eyes cutting to Strong for a second before cutting back to the girl, a tremble overcoming his entire body as his breathing started to labor.

As he had done almost a week ago, Strong stood his ground, squaring off in front of Jackson as he said firmly, "It's not going to go down like that, boss."

"PUT HER BACK IN THE FUCKING CAGE!", Jackson yelled with all the strength he could muster, kicking over a caster-mounted tool bench for effect as he stormed through the hangar with no specific destination in mind. Doc Strong closed his eyes, sighing deep with a low grumble as he turned. The girl watched Jackson, her narrowed eyes following him all the way as he disappeared behind a heavy steel door into one of the hangar's back hallways. Her jaw clenched as she sensed Jayce approaching from behind, a gentle voice trying to provide some comfort as she reached out, "C'mon, we'll get ya fed and ba—"

Not so much to Jayce's surprise, but more her shock, the girl swatted her hand away, shrugging her shoulders loose as she marched forward. No one was really sure what her intent was, but they followed at a safe distance. The lack of tension in the air had been a welcome reprieve, but like all things, there was a time and a season for it to end. To everyone's surprise, the girl turned and headed back towards the hallway containing the cells, leaving them dumbfounded in their tracks. Jayce was the first to move again, taking a few steps before the crash of the cell door shutting froze her in place again. She was hurt, confused, and above it all, she was furious at her old man.

When she found the courage to move again, she turned for the door behind which Jackson had whisked himself before a gentle hand pulled her back. Addie appeared next to her, gently pushing her back as she said, "Stay here, I'll handle this..."

Doc Strong was fast on Addie's heels, more or less repeating the same words to Bison. Addie turned, stopping him at the door with a firm open palm against his broad chest, "J-Just, don't... please. I won't break up a fight between you two... jus' let me talk to him..."

Strong bit his tongue, unhappy about all of it, but as he exhaled sharply through his nose, he obliged and took a step back, raising his hands halfway. None of remaining crew had any idea what Addie thought she of all people could shake loose from that particular tree, but a voice as gentle as hers had as good a chance as any to calm the old man down. Still, she wore the worry on her face, looking to each of them as she whispered under her breath before closing the door behind her, "Shit!"

Before Bison or Strong could stop her, Jayce stomped off toward the cells, perfectly following the girl's trail as she swore at herself, motioning with her hands; anything to work off the pent-up frustration she felt in that moment. She didn't blame Jackson, or the girl, or any of them. She blamed herself for trying to do a good thing... the right thing.

--

Jackson stood in a dark corner of the crew's briefing room, alone in his thoughts as he leaned over a small table, lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was staring down the bottom of a glass, a brown liquid sloshing around inside. He didn't normally go for the hard stuff, not anymore, but the last week could hardly be considered normal by anyone's definition.

The crew liked to be official in calling it a briefing room, but really all it amounted to was an old and unused meeting room with a long collapsible picnic table set up in the middle, one entire wall clear of any decorations for the sake of holo-projection when they needed to prepare for a gig. More importantly in this moment, it was the one place where Jackson stashed his old faithful in the form of a particularly vile and cheap bottle of mash whiskey. For a time following Aiyana's death, it was the only thing that drowned out the voices in his head when Jayce's comforting embrace wasn't enough. It had taken years to put himself back together, and putting together this crew was a large part of that. Outside of trying to be a good father, the crew gave him purpose.

But here and now, he felt like the walls were closing in on him again, like it could all come crashing down at any moment. He felt as lost and aimless now as he did back in Juarez. And for what?, he thought to himself before his internal monologue was cut short by a voice as sweet as honey, "That girl's not your enemy, Jax... and I know you know that..."

He stifled a scoff, his eyes darting up for a second before staring back into the bottom of his glass. While their casually flirtatious banter was the stuff of legends on any given day, Jackson surprised himself that he had no words for Addie in this moment, and so he answered by downing his two fingers of whiskey before pouring another as she continued, "You're not going to find the answers there, either... God himself knows I tried..."

She shifted from leaning against the door frame as she walked to the table and leaned forward, the single overhead lamp catching the lines of her face against the shadows as she pressed him, "...talk to me Jackson... please."

"You know where I went today?", Jackson finally spoke, swishing around the glass as he took a drag of his cigarette. Addie shook her head with a confused look on her face, "Dakota... had some intel about our girl, yeah?"

Jackson turned to face Addie as he made his point, "Ol' lady had a scav half-dead an' hangin' from chains in her shop... jus' so 'appens he was the only survivor on the City-side from a meetin' gone sideways between his outfit, Wraiths, an' guess who else...?"

Addie's eyes widened as Jackson continued, "By 'is account, that girl was chained up along wit' a few others in case things... soured..."

"...Jesus...", Addie exclaimed under her breath, "What happened?"

Jackson shrugged, "Somethin' spooked 'er, she got loose o' whoever was holdin' 'er leash, took out mos' o' the present company by 'erself 'fore they nearly butchered her. One scav got away, guess our boogeymen cut their losses an' got the hell out o' dodge... and we know how that story ends..."

Addie had no stomach for Jackson's dry smirk and sarcasm, least of all now, and she steered him back on track, "What was the meeting about?"

"What's it ever 'bout when Raffen an' Russians break bread together?", Jackson egged her on, watching the realization set in as she answered, defeated, "Trafficking..."

"That girl's part o' some wasteland outfit...", Jackson filled in the blanks as he set his glass down and took a drag, "Scavs snatch 'n grab in the city, Raffen ferries 'em out to God-knows-where... an' these wastelanders sell 'em off or keep 'em for stock."

He could see Addie's face twisting, the blood boiling beneath the surface. For a second, she didn't look much different from Jackson, but between the two of them, it behooved her to remain the voice of reason, "Jax... I know what you think... but they dumped her like a piece of meat. All she's known with them is pain. All she's known here is warmth and kindness..."

He regretted the words before they even left his mouth, but he said them anyway, "I reckon flyin' above it all, you didn't much see what one man can do to another man when 'ey's backed into a corner..."

—SLAM!—

Addie crashed a chair against the floor with a raging fire in her eyes locked on Jackson as she snapped back, "Don't you dare insinuate that I have some lofty notion of what that shit was... First Sergeant Jackson Calloway..."

Hearing his full name and rank from her mouth cut deeper than he expected, and Addie twisted the knife further as they stared each other down, the same darkness consuming her as she leaned in, "I heard the stories about you and your men... what you did to me and mine."

The tension was palpable, a bead of sweat forming on Jackson's head, although it could just as well have been the whiskey. He'd never seen this side of the fly-girl, and it honestly scared the living daylights out of him to see it now as her voice settled into a discontented growl, "I knew who you were when I signed on, and I put all that aside because I didn't believe a man who's built what you have out here was capable of such things... but maybe I was wrong all this time..."

Jackson felt his heart tearing in two and his gut sinking, wondering why he couldn't stop himself and just let go, "I'm no saint, Addie... maybe 's for the best you rethink the past few years..."

"We're a family, Jax!", she spat as a single tear ran down her cheek, "That's what you've built, and despite what you think, that little girl won't be the end of it... nor will I."

Doc Strong appeared silently in the doorway, biding his time and letting Addie speak her piece. Jackson felt his own tears forming at seeing her like this, and he hated himself because he was the cause of it. As if to make his point for him, Addie spoke her final words on the matter before turning to leave, "The only thing that can kill this family... is you. And you're doing a bang-up job so far..."

Strong took a step back, making room for Addie to cross his path as she stormed out of the room, leaving the two men to sort out their business. Strong let his crossed arms fall to his side as he reached into his pocket and fumbled for something. Jackson wanted to beg to be left alone, but he owed it to them, to all of them, to have their say.

"I know where your head's at, boss...", the Doc stepped into the same space in which Addie was standing only a few seconds prior, the smell of engine grease and a light tinge of something sweet hanging in the air. His eyes were locked on his own two feet until he found what he was looking for as he pulled his hand from his pocket. He carefully reached forward, flattening his palm against the table as he looked up to Jackson, "I made a promise once... you remember?"

Jackson's face hardened again, his eyes clouding over as Strong removed his hand from the table, leaving a small coin behind. The light bounced off the worn face and smoothed edges, and Jackson recognized it immediately. At one time, that was all he had on him when Joshua Strong saved his life in a bloodstained trench outside Ridgecrest, and he insisted it was a down payment on a debt he'd spend the rest of his life paying back to every man lying dead in that hole with them. It was a token of their bond, of all they shared and lost together over the years. Strong's own composure broke as he tried to find the words, "T-This is twice now, I've had to stand between you and... killing kids, Jax... that's not our way... this girl has a real chance with us."

Jackson knew he was in the wrong, but that dark part of him wouldn't let up. Every time he saw the girl's face, all he saw was the the pain of all he had lost. He felt the hurt of what so many others had suffered, just like him. She wasn't the cause of any of it, but for better or worse, she was a part of it, and he couldn't risk any more damage being done to what was already so fragile.

Strong pressed his point, reading Jackson's face plain as day, "I... I said I'd follow you anywhere, always have your back... but not like this."

They stood together in silence for almost a minute as Jackson felt himself cracking, his nostrils flaring and his lips trembling. After a hearty sniffle, Strong continued, "I said I'd be there to pull you out of the dark when it got too much to bear... but not if you're going to let it fall apart. Jax... what you're letting happen here... I can't let you destroy this family, and I won't stand by and watch it happen. You choose this path, you're walking it alone..."

There was nothing else to say, and Strong took his leave, fighting another sniffle as he tried to hold it together for everyone else's sake. Jackson was left standing alone, staring at the coin on the table. He could almost see the smudged dirt and blood that once covered it clear as day, flashes of that Hell crossing his mind as tears fell. When he could finally bear to stop staring, he looked up, but not at the ceiling only a few feet above his head. He was staring nowhere in particular, almost as if he were searching for someone in that great blue sky, silently mouthing the words his voice was too shaky to say out loud.

It hit him all at once, all together, and he collapsed as he fell back against the wall, sliding down until his ass hit the cold concrete. His mind was pulled in a thousand different directions, and it all poured forth as he threw the glass against the wall, held his head in his hands, and wept openly; for his men, for his wife, for his own hubris and stupidity in throwing away the one good thing in his life. He was no saint... he was broken.

--

[Some time later]

The sun had bade farewell to another day as the evening chill spread across the desert. The crescent moon overhead imbued the sand with a low glow, illuminating the landscape just enough as it filtered in through the barred windows of the cells. The girl hadn't moved from the bed since Jackson's return earlier that day. She just sat there, looking out the window, her mind a flurry of activity.

Similarly, and for reasons she couldn't quite explain, Jayce also hadn't moved from the bench. She felt drawn to the girl, and felt like more than anything the girl needed to know someone was there. And so she sat patiently, polishing the same pipe wrench over and over again and questioning herself; had she made the right call? Was it smart to let her out of the cage, or had this entire ordeal done more harm than good?

One thing nobody could quite fathom was how compliant the girl was when Jackson gave his ultimatum. She wasn't happy about it, that much was obvious, but she listened and obeyed anyway... without question. For as brash and headstrong as she had been thus far, it was a surprising display of submission that knocked everyone on their asses, foul moods aside. As had become the norm over the last week, they were perpetually left with more questions than answers, but Jayce wasn't pushing her luck to try and ask.

Both of their ears perked up to the quiet sound of boots falling. The girl seemed to recognize who it was, her jaw clenched as she turned back to look out the window. Jayce was in no mood, looking over as Jackson approached cautiously. Her eyes said it all, and he raised his hands as if to motion that he meant no harm. The damage was already done. What stood out most to Jayce was seeing the old man without his holster. For as long as she could remember living in Mother Base, he was never without a big iron on his hip; and yet here and now, he almost looked naked without it.

He looked like death warmed over, his face long and weary with bags set under his sunken eyes. There was a pall of pain and sadness draped over him, pulling his shoulders down as he shifted forward, one foot after the other. He kept his distance, leaning against the bars of the cell like the weight of the world was pulling him down. He stared down for several seconds, searching for the words. A blind man could see the conflict running amok inside him; Jayce knew the signs better than anyone, having seen him like this after her mother...

"I know what you are...", Jackson spoke softly, eyes still locked on the floor as he leaned in, resting his head against the bars. Jayce cut to him, glaring at him as he raised a hand to preempt her from snapping back, "I know where you come from, and what your people did to you..."

His tone changed in an instant, from firm and authoritative to soft and apologetic, and Jayce eased up as she looked back in the cell. The girl's shoulders sagged forward, her head resting against her arms holding her legs to her chest. Jackson cleared his throat, carefully considering his choice of words, "M-My crew thinks there's somethin' worth savin', that you can find a home here... can you even understand me?"

There was no outward response, and that alone told Jackson all he needed to know. He turned, his back against the bars as he prepared to push off and leave well enough alone before a raspy yet definitively young and feminine voice called out to him, nearly knocking him flat on his ass, "...n-not... supposed... to talk..."

He spun around, eyes wide, gripping the bars as he stared through to the girl. Jayce had to restrain herself from jumping off the bench, but her eyes were equally as wide. Nearly a week with no verbal communication, and all it took was Jackson showing her just a glimpse of the humanity everyone else had. He carefully pressed his luck, "But... you can talk...?"

The girl's head raised, looking back out the window as a few tears formed in the corners of her eyes, "Elders... command... we... obey... no need... for words."

Jackson just couldn't help himself, "That's... a hell of a way to live..."

Jayce tried to stifle a scoff, and even the girl's body reacted; she understood the inflection and sarcasm. Jackson smirked, allowing himself a moment to revel in this small personal victory before he continued, "This crew's my family. They're all I've got... and I'll do whatever's necessary to keep 'em safe. I need to know you understand that."

The thinly veiled threat wasn't so thinly veiled, and the girl's eyes narrowed as she cut to him staring her down. After a while of try to peer into each other's souls, the girl returned to looking out the window as she said, "I understand..."

"My people don't see you as a threat...", Jackson pressed on, "...an' they've placed their trust in takin' care of you... are you a threat to us...?"

The girl didn't move, considering her answer for a moment. She could feel the skepticism in her host staring a hole through her, waiting with baited breath, and she finally obliged him as she slowly turned to meet his gaze, "...are you a threat to me?"

Jackson was taken aback at the audacity of the question, but it wasn't without precedent. He recovered, composing himself, "I'm takin' a chance that you mean us no harm... but I won' flinch to do whatever it takes to protect what I have."

The girl's head dipped, a long and loose bang of hair hanging down as she stared at the floor. She reached up, feeling over the back of her neck as her face twisted. She finally met Jackson's eyes again, a solemn pain in her own eyes as her voice broke, "...I-I'm not a threat..."

She turned away, shifting to lay down on the cot with her back to them. She was done talking. Jackson kept a careful eye on her as Jayce watched for his reaction. The girl tried to block out the world around her, just wanting to be left alone. She curled her body inward, ignoring anything and everything, until the one thing she never expected shook her to her core. Beeping keys, a hollow metal crash, and the squeaking of hinges. She couldn't help but turn to look, finding Jayce and Jackson were both gone, and the cell door wide open.

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