Chapter Text
“Hey.”
Gwen saw Robert raise his head to look up at her, obviously surprised to see her standing there, holding her tray.
She stood there for a minute before speaking again. “Mind if I sit?”
Robert waved at the bench in front of him in an inviting gesture, but Gwen did not miss the suspicion in his face as she sat opposite to him.
Was she crazy for doing this? Maybe, she thought as she started to eat her food, holding back a disgusted face as she chewed through the green beans. But she’d had a certain itch about the man, heck, almost everyone she talked to shared her curiosity. Who was this man, what did he do for a living, was he married, et cetera. Gwen prided herself on knowing these things about people on the base– she had to stay a step ahead somehow– either by having others ask for her or eavesdropping.
Unfortunately, Robert looked so incredibly intimidating that no one she talked to was willing to even glance in his direction. Natasha immediately opted out of the plan when Gwen uttered Robert’s name. Even Patrick seemed put off by the man, his attempts at conversation brushed off with nothing more than silence or snark.
Gwen also shuddered at the thought of eavesdropping on this man. She’d done it before, that day that Robert had stopped her to ask about Dr. Ward, following him from a safe distance, trying to make her footsteps as silent as possible. He probably wouldn’t have noticed either way, moving like a man on a mission as he reached the barracks. She stayed near the doorway, hiding in the shadows, straining her hearing to discern their voices over the heavy rain outside.
Then she heard it. Sobbing.
A quick sneaky glance inside allowed her to make out two silhouettes, Robert with his arms wrapped tightly around the doctor’s shoulders while Dr. Ward clung to him with fervor.
She ducked back into the shadows once more, feeling her heart clench at the utter sadness in the doctor’s cries. As much as she wanted to stay and see what information she could gain about Robert, she understood that this was clearly a vulnerable and intimate moment between the two of them. Call her a coward, but Gwen operated with morals about these things. So with quiet and hurried steps, she left.
That was the last time she’d eavesdropped on Robert. Gwen thanked whatever higher powers were looking over her that Robert had not seen her, because if he had, she had a distinct feeling she’d be buried in a hole somewhere.
All she knew about the man was his name and his only friend here seemed to be Dr. Ward. Speaking of. . .
“Where’s the doctor?” Gwen raised an eyebrow as she raised a spoonful of steamed carrots to her mouth. A blank stare in response. This was going to be harder than she wanted, but at least he didn’t tell her to fuck off.
She chewed slowly, her mind running through several conversation starters that could get him talking to her. She motioned at his tray, which sat untouched. “You gonna eat or what?”
That at least got a reaction from him, an imperceptible flinch as he finally picked up the small plastic fork, but a reaction nonetheless.
Gwen noted Robert’s eyes consistently flicking to something behind her shoulder as they ate. Curiosity gives way, and she turns around, spotting Dr. Ward at a far table with Patrick. Even from this distance, she can make out the miserable expression on his face as he picks at the food on his tray. She turned back to Robert, seeing him hunched over his food, as if embarrassed at getting caught looking.
Interesting.
They continued eating in silence.
Just as Robert finished eating, a question popped into Gwen’s head. “How old are you?” She blurted out.
Robert looked at her like she’d grown a second head.
“I’m 26?” Gwen added nervously.
Silence. Just as she thought this man had gone mute since she last saw him, she heard his low response.
“34.”
“34?” Robert nodded. “You look older.” Why did she say that? Gwen felt the tips of her ears redden at the indirect insult, expecting the man in front of her to snap at her, call her names, or maybe bash her head in with his empty tray.
Instead, he chuckled, shaking his head as if amused.
“He’s told me that too.” Robert stood up from the table, giving Gwen a small smile. “Goodnight.”
“You too.” She said, watching him walk off. Gwen didn’t have to be a detective to know who “he” was.
She finished eating her food, updating her mental file on Robert as she took the last spoonful of carrots.
This was complete torture.
It had been two weeks since Ethan last spoke to him. Even though they still had to do their tasks together, his general posture made it clear he had no intention of talking to Rob. It was driving him mad. He wanted to talk, to clear the air, to say he was sorry for what he said, sorry for keeping a secret (as if he didn’t have a few others tucked into his back pocket) when Ethan had been so open with him. But how was he supposed to do that when the other man wouldn’t even look him in the eye?
Rob groaned, smacking his forehead against the door of the medical room he’d been pacing for god knows how long. He’d done all of the work for today and had an absurd amount of free time before dinner. He sighed, peeling his face from the door and resuming his walk around the room. Elise would probably advise him to give Ethan space, he needed to heal from this, blah blah blah. She would’ve been right, as always, but Rob did not expect this to be so painful for him.
He longed for the late nights like before, seeing Ethan’s eyes light up at a particularly interesting story. If he could go back in time and throttle himself for this, he would.
It’s not like he was alone though. Gwen had, for some unknown reason, taken a liking to him. He started noticing her around the base more often, exchanging pleasantries when they crossed paths. She was a nice girl, a bit more reserved like him, and quite respected by the others around the base. Rob liked her.
Not in that way. Ew.
The third day of their newfound companionship, Gwen once again prodded him about what had happened between him and Ethan. You guys were practically attached at the hip, everyone noticed, she had said when Rob asked if it was that obvious. Of course, he didn’t tell her the whole truth, just that he had accidentally said and done something hurtful. He immediately changed the subject after, not wanting her to pry.
Rob started pacing again when he heard the door swing open, spinning around to see who it was.
“Gwen.” He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a bit disappointed that it wasn't Ethan standing there instead.
“The colonel wants to see you,” she said before adding, “See us, actually.”
A cold feeling crept up his spine, but Rob kept his face impassive. “Give me a minute, yeah?”
She nodded and shut the door, just as Rob took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to calm his rising panic.
What in the world did the colonel need him for? Did Ethan decide to tell him? No, if that were the case, then the colonel had no reason to call for Gwen as well. Unless he thought she was somehow involved, his brain helpfully supplied.
The more he thought about it, the more anxious he felt himself becoming. Might as well rip the band-aid off. He stepped outside of the room, seeing Gwen leaning on the wall near the door, waiting for him. Immediately, his mind went to Ethan, how the doctor waited for him in a similar fashion the day Rob was finally cleared from bedrest. It would’ve seemed that it was only yesterday, with how clear the memory was. That thought only served to worsen the ache in his chest.
He followed Gwen down the halls, into places he’d never been because he didn’t have “clearance”, whatever the fuck that meant, until they reached the colonel’s office.
The moment Rob swung the door open, he was immediately greeted with an array of people already in the room, among them Ethan. Fantastic. As much as he wanted to turn around and leave, he followed Gwen to a nearby spot on the wall, silently cataloging the others.
The office was small, so everyone was leaning against the walls. Well, mostly everyone. Colonel Milley sat at his desk, Andromeda and Colbert standing on either side of him. He recognized a few others, but most of these people were complete strangers to him, both in face and name. From Rob’s spot on the left wall, he could see Ethan standing next to Patrick, occasionally ducking his head to listen to the whispers of the other man, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Rob was not jealous. He was not.
Colonel Milley cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “I’ll be very brief with all of you. Each and every one of you will be sent out tomorrow to a nearby town to collect supplies.” He glanced around at them before continuing. “You’ll leave at 1200 and arrive at the town at approximately 1400. Don’t expect to come back the same day.”
What the fuck? It wasn’t the trip that necessarily threw Rob off, but the fact that he was picked out for it. What kind of skills did he have to offer the others? He was abysmal with a gun (not like they knew), his medical knowledge consisted of band-aids, he couldn’t hear out of one ear, and was overall just a heavy sack of flesh that would best serve as alien bait.
“-in pairs. I have the list here.” Colonel Milley began reading off names, Rob listening for his own. Gwen got paired with someone named Taniyah, someone he’d seen a total of one time before this.
“Robert and Ethan–”
“Actually, Colonel, I’d like to be paired up with Robert.” Colbert interrupted, casting a glance over at Ethan. “You wouldn't mind, would you, doctor?”
Rob’s eyes snapped over to where Ethan was, trying to get a read on the man. Silence fell over the office, broken only by Andromeda’s sigh before it resumed, both men staring each other down. Colbert looked far too amused for the situation, while Ethan looked like he wanted nothing more than to set fire to the man’s hair.
“No objections.” Ethan grit out through clenched teeth, completely oblivious to how the response felt like a punch to Rob’s stomach.
“Good.” Colonel Milley quickly intervened, clearly wanting to avoid any trouble, rattling off the last names on the list before talking about important sounding things.
Rob, however, didn’t listen to a word the colonel was saying, staring right at Ethan, still taken aback by his response to Colbert’s ask. He knew the man was mad at him, but enough to have him stuck with the sole person Ethan could not stand without so much as a protest? The original plan of giving him space was thrown out the window as of right now, he had to talk to him.
“Dismissed.” The word had barely left the colonel’s mouth before Ethan shot out of the room like a rocket, Robert following close behind.
“Ethan,” He called after the man, cursing his shorter legs as he struggled to catch up to Ethan. “Ethan– oh for Christ’s sake. Dr. Ward!”
Rob couldn't remember the last time he’d referred to Ethan by his title and surname, but it seemed to do the trick. Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, whirling around to look Rob in the face after what seemed like forever, anger flashing in those lovely blue eyes.
“What do you want now Robert?” Ethan practically spat his words as Rob stood in front of him.
“What do I– I want to talk, that's what! You haven’t spoken to me in two weeks–”
“You couldn’t take the hint?”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Rob threw his arms out in exasperation, "I'm sorry I said what I said. I shouldn’t have done that, it was wrong of me.”
“You think that's the main issue?” Ethan stuck a finger into Rob’s chest. “You think that’s why I’ve ignored you for two weeks? Yes, it hurt me when you threw my biggest mistake in my face, but it was the fact that you lied that stung the most.”
Others around the hall were beginning to stare and whisper at the two of them, but Rob couldn’t care less, staring at Ethan with slightly widened eyes as the man continued talking.
“-a con man, whatever you might have been I don’t give a fuck! You lied to my face for months on end. I trusted you, and all I wanted was the same thing back, but you couldn't even give me that!” He jabbed his finger in harsher, as if to underscore his words.
“I wanted to tell you!” Rob blurted out, “Ethan, believe me I did. It’s just, I didn’t– I–”
A resounding boom reached their ears, cutting off Rob’s stuttered explanation and throwing them slightly off balance as the lights flickered. People around them began shouting incoherently, running all over the place. Rob met Ethan’s eyes for a second before the doctor turned and ran down the hall, likely trying to find the source of the commotion. With a lack of better options, Rob went after him.
Alarms blared as they took off down the halls, the red making Rob’s vision blur ever so slightly as it covered every surface. He didn’t even notice Ethan had stopped in the doorway of the exit, barreling right into the other man’s back and sending them both tumbling into the ground.
Ethan groaned as he hit the dirt, feeling Robert roll off his back with a similar noise of complaint. Distantly, he heard Robert muttering apologies, but that’s not what Ethan focused on as he raised his head to look at the scene in front of him.
Fire. Smoke. Oh dear God. . .
“Are you alright?” Robert hoisted him up by the arm. Ethan was too busy being disoriented to protest, leaning against the slightly shorter man.
“I don’t. . .” Ethan’s gaze flickered over the chaos unfolding. Screams overlapped each other, each one sounding just as alarmed as the other. The smoke was spreading, thick black fog tainting the air like a giant fire signal, except there was no salvation.
And then there were the bodies.
From Ethan’s point of view, he could see a small number of them strewn on the ground. Some were moving and in pain, some were actively being tended by a few others who knew first aid, and some were not moving at all. His stomach twisted, knowing the fire and smoke was probably concealing the worst of the damage. Just how many others had died, how many more were injured?
Ethan’s gaze trailed down to a nearby corpse person lying face-down on the ground, blood trickling from a wound on their side. Recognition made his stomach fall. Was that–?
“Gwen!” Robert dashed over to her, falling on his knees beside her unmoving body, hands hovering like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.
The panic on his friend’s face spurred Ethan into action, kneeling down on the other side of Gwen’s body, a trembling hand reaching out to check her pulse.
Slow, but there.
“She’s alive,” Ethan said as he gently lifted up the hem of Gwen’s shirt to look for the injury, eyes locking on the nasty gash. A spark of worry lit in his heart before he reminded himself that these things usually looked worse than they actually were. He pressed down firmly on the wound, feeling the blood stain his palm.
“Robert.” He made no sign that he had heard Ethan, gaze fixed on where Ethan’s hand covered Gwen’s injury. “Robert!”
Brown eyes met blue. “Get her to the infirmary. Have someone help you and keep pressure on the wound.” His free hand reached for one of Robert’s, replacing it with his own as he stood up. “Go!”
Ethan didn’t wait to see if Robert moved or not, making his way towards the source of what he guessed was an explosion. He squinted through the smoke, pressing his nose into the crook of his elbow to ease his breathing.
Squish.
He looked down, extremely grateful for his strong stomach as he closed his eyes and swallowed back a gag, carefully lifting his foot from the chunk of bloody flesh he'd dug it in.
His eyes watered as he continued moving, ignoring the rolling in his stomach as he kept stepping in mixtures of blood, skin, and even organs.
The smoke got even thicker, to the point where his elbow was no longer a useful filter, forcing him to crouch low on the ground to keep going forward. He felt the blood stain his skin like a brand, the strong metallic scent almost overwhelming.
Ethan's ears perked up as he registered a cough, whipping his head around to scan for the source.
A few feet to his right, he saw someone laying on the floor, craning their head to look at a jagged piece of metal sticking out of their abdomen. They must've barely regained consciousness, if their sluggish movements were any indication. Ethan began crawling towards them when he suddenly saw them wrap a hand around the shrapnel.
"Stop! Don't–" The words died on his tongue as he watched in horror as they yanked the shard out, a fountain of blood pouring from the open wound.
"You idiot!" Ethan finally reached them, pressing down on their injury, ignoring their panicked gasps. "Keep pressure on it. Stay calm– stop moving!"
A spurt of blood from the wound hit Ethan in the face, making him flinch. He removed one of his hands, wiping the liquid from his eyes with the clean inside part of his forearm. When he looked down however, the person's eyes were open, and their chest was unmoving. A hand made its way to their neck, bloody fingers prodding the smooth skin.
Dead.
Ethan stood on shaky legs, stumbling backwards a few steps, not moving his eyes from the corpse even as the surrounding sounds of the dying demanded his attention.
His hands were shaking, he could see as much, red and slick with blood as he raised them up to his face. His breathing picked up as he stared at his hands, he was going to have a panic attack; he knew all too well the pressure in his chest. You’re a doctor, his mind tried to reason, this is what you trained for. You know how to do this. Don’t panic. Help them. Don’t panic. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic. Who was he kidding? He was trained to function in a controlled environment, surrounded by sterile walls, modern technology, and people who didn’t flinch when blood stained their gloves. What currently surrounded him was akin to a warzone, not the emergency room.
Cold hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling them away. Colbert. Where did he come from? He was trying to talk to Ethan, but his words sounded far away, like Ethan was submerged in water. He couldn't breathe, he needed to go, he couldn't move–
Suddenly, Ethan felt something stomp on his right foot, letting out a yelp at the sharp pain that shot through his leg. The fog in his brain cleared, sound flooding back in like someone had flipped a switch.
“Ethan! You with me?” He blinked at Colbert, nodding slowly. “Go help set up the infirmary, and take out all the surgical things you can find.”
“Are you mad?” Ethan’s voice cracked, staring at Colbert like he’d grown a second head. “It’s just the two of us in this forsaken place, and–and you want to do surgery?”
“Who else but us, Ethan?” Colbert insisted, “We have to try.”
“I can’t. Alex, I can’t.” Ethan shook his head, ignoring the fact he’d used Colbert’s first name. How long had it been since the last time he’d spoken it?
“Listen to me.” Colbert’s hands went up to hold either side of Ethan’s face, forcing eye contact. “I know you’re scared, but I need you to do this. You were a brilliant surgeon before all of this happened, I know you can do it.”
Ethan inhaled deeply, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to get his bearings. Breathe in four seconds. Hold for four seconds. Exhale for four. Hold for four. Repeat. After a minute, he opened his eyes to find Colbert staring at him with an expectant look on his face.
“Okay.”
Rob sat at a chair on Gwen’s side, watching his friend lie on the bed, the fading rays of the sun filtering through the windows of the infirmary reflecting on the glass screen of the monitor before catching on the thin white curtains that separated patients in the infirmary.
He never wanted to experience that type of panic again. After Ethan left him with Gwen, he’d picked her up and ran inside, desperately asking people to point him to the direction of the infirmary while making a conscious effort to keep a hand on her side. He’d carefully put her down on a nearby bed, but was quickly ordered out to go help bring in more wounded, the woman taking over Gwen’s care. Rob had been hesitant to leave Gwen, but recognized the urgency in the woman’s voice.
Even though he had washed off the blood on his arms, he still felt like it was still there, like a brand pressed into his skin, suffocating and painful.
The curtain suddenly swished, and Rob lifted his head to find Colbert standing there.
“I thought they’d ordered everyone out an hour ago.” Colbert walked over, sitting down in a chair opposite to Rob, stealing a glance at Gwen. “How’s she holding up?”
“Fine. Um, a wound on her side and concussion, I think.” Rob frowned.
“Luckier than most of the people then.” A dark look passed over Colbert’s face. “The explosion decimated everyone within a ten meter radius. Dr. Ward is looking over the worst of them right now.”
“All by himself?” The mention of Ethan tore Rob’s attention from Gwen, looking at Colbert.
“He’s a talented surgeon,” Colbert replied, shrugging, “far better than myself.”
“You say that like you know him extremely well.”
“I do.”
Rob glanced over at Gwen, lying painfully still on the bed, save for the rise and fall of her chest. “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”
“What, I have to prove myself?” Colbert sighed, “Adopted at the age of one by Annabel Swift and Fernando Alvarez. Lived in Mendota, California for most of his life before he went to the University of California Santa Barbara, majoring in biology with a pre-med track. Parents divorced at the age of ten, with the father moving-”
Each word that came out of Colbert’s mouth grew the pit of unease in Rob’s stomach, watching with a sort of horrified fascination as he continued to rattle off facts about Ethan’s life as if he were simply reading a menu out loud, trying to decide what to eat. This man somehow knew extremely intimate details about Ethan’s life, despite them known to always be at each other’s throats when left in the same room. Who memorized their archenemy’s favorite cereal?
“Stop.” Rob held up a hand to stop Colbert from talking. “Why– How the fuck do you know all this?”
A surprised look came over Colbert’s face. “What do you– oh. He hasn’t told you.”
“He hasn't told me what?” Rob leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.
“If I tell you, it’ll be too easy,” Colbert chuckled softly, shooting Rob a mocking smirk. Even though it was meant to be insulting, Rob could see a hint of sad bitterness in his expression. “No, it’s not my place to say. Besides, he’s earned the discomfort that comes with saying it.”
“Yeah right,” Rob scoffed, leaning back in the chair once more, crossing his arms, “He won’t even glance my way after I practically blamed him for Valentine’s death. What makes you think he’ll talk to me again?”
“Wow.” Colbert whistled lowly, “And he didn’t punch you for that? I thought you would’ve been more sensible. He must really like you.”
“Your point?” Rob snapped.
Rob didn’t know why he was even entertaining Colbert with conversation/his problems. He disliked the man, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual. But desperate times call for desperate measures, right? He couldn’t talk to Ethan, because he was the source of Rob’s problem, and the only other person Rob would consider opening up to was currently lying on a hospital bed. Still, he could’ve probably gone with Patrick, maybe even Andromeda, even though she would probably only roll her eyes at him. Someone other than Colbert.
“You ever call him a murderer?”
What.
“What?” He voiced as such. That question caught Rob off guard, wondering where this conversation was going.
“I said,” Colbert repeated slowly, “Have you ever called him a murderer?”
“Um, no? Why ask?”
“Then you’ll be fine.” Colbert waved a hand dismissively. “He’ll talk to you. Eventually.”
“Okay. . ?” Rob replied warily, feeling a bit left out. Murderer?
Silence fell over the two.
“You should go to sleep.” Colbert stood up from his chair, moving towards Gwen’s monitor. “The mission is still tomorrow.”
“Seriously?” Rob felt incredulous. “He’s still following through with it? Despite today?”
“The colonel sent one of our own with a broken leg last time. When have injuries ever delayed anything?”
Fair enough, Rob thought as he stood up. Then a thought struck him, where in the world was he going to sleep? The medical room would surely be occupied, and he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor.
“Take his bunk.”
“Huh?”
“Ethan’s bunk.” It was like Colbert had read his mind. “He won’t be resting for a while. Even if he crashes out, it’ll be on an arrangement of chairs.”
“Right.” Rob lingered, feeling awkward. Would it be too friendly to wish him a good night? It would be rude not to say something though. “Goodluck, and stay awake.”
Colbert simply nodded, not taking his eyes off of Gwen’s monitor, even as Rob turned on his heel and left.
His walk to the barracks was depressing, the sound of his footsteps was his only companion. When he finally reached the barracks, he could feel the stares in his direction as he stood in the doorway, eyes sweeping over the place. He’d been here a grand total of one time, and he didn’t remember which bunk was Ethan’s. Did they ever switch? What if he slept in some dead person’s bed? He wasn’t a superstitious man by any means, but it would still feel wrong.
Behind him, someone spoke, “Robert.”
“Patrick.” Rob cleared his throat awkwardly, turning around to face the man, who was staring at him with an indecipherable expression, sporting a nasty bruise on his left temple.
“You wouldn't happen to know which bunk is Ethan’s? I usually sleep in the medical room, but I think that's occupied right now, and I thought I could. . .” He trailed off, feeling like a small bug about to be squished by a shoe the longer Patrick stared at him, unblinking.
“He bunks with me,” Patrick replied coldly after a heavy silence, shoulder-checking Rob as he walked inside the barracks and made his way to his bunk, Rob hesitating for a moment before following. “He sleeps–”
“On the lower one, I know,” Rob cut him off as they reached the bunk.
Patrick muttered something under his breath, probably wishing for a lightning bolt to strike Rob, before starting to change into more appropriate sleepwear. No doubt Ethan had probably told him most of the story.
Rob looked down at his own clothes, dirty jeans and a bloodstained shirt. He didn't fancy sleeping in just his underwear in a bed that wasn’t his, but he should at least remove his shirt.
He carefully peeled off the fabric, trying to ignore the way Patrick seemed to do a double take at the scars that littered his torso. Rob was by no means an insecure man, he didn't care much for his appearance, but being stared at like he was an anomaly would've put anybody off.
He shook his head, folding the shirt into a somewhat presentable rectangle that hid most of the blood. As he did so, something under the pillow caught his eye. The yellowed edge of paper, like a photograph.
“Don’t even think about it. That’s none of your business.” Patrick glared at him from the ladder of the bunk, one foot resting on the first ring.
Okay, now Rob was really starting to dislike the guy.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He snapped as he retracted his hand, letting it fall back to his side.
“Like you don’t know what you did.” Patrick scoffed, clambering up the ladder with ease, settling on his mattress with nothing more than a soft creak of springs.
“That’s between me and him. I didn’t do anything to you.” Rob looked up, seeing Patrick peek his head over the railing. For a moment, he thought the man was about to jump from above and tackle Rob, but then he saw the tension drain out of Patrick’s shoulders.
“He’s a good man,” Patrick spoke firmly but not harshly, “He didn’t deserve that.”
“Yeah, I know.” The defensive tone left Rob’s voice and he averted his gaze to the floor. “I just– didn’t know how he’d react and. . .I didn’t want to lose him.”
“Then tell him that,” Patrick said softly, “Tell him exactly that.”
“I tried, but he won’t listen,” Rob sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Patrick chuckled, “You two are equally stubborn. Believe me, it’s hurting him as much as it’s hurting you. Lock him in a room if you need to, but he needs to hear that.”
“It’s always good to have someone at your back, especially now, and especially here.” He laid down on his bed, disappearing from Rob’s view. “Goodnight Robert.”
“Goodnight.”
Maybe he’d imagined the undertone of warning in Patrick’s statement, Rob thought as he laid on the mattress, hand brushing over the unknown photograph under the pillow as he began to doze off.