Hostage Rescue (Closed forAngeleyez and NiceandBrutal)

Veronica's breath caught in her throat at the expression on Scott's face. Such a carefree, almost happy look on what was usually a sober or serious face. It made him look years younger and so handsome.

Her breathing quickened when she saw an almost determined look enter his gorgeous eyes. Was he going to kiss her? Please, God, let him kiss her. She waited to see what he was going to do, what she might have read in his expression.

When he leaned in, it was all Veronica could do to stay still. And then he kissed her... on the forehead. Blinking, it was all she could do to hide her embarrassment.

Veronica ducked her head to avoid eye contact. Oh my goodness, she was so glad she hadn't leaned in to meet him in the middle for a kiss! Not when apparently he considered nothing but a kid sister of some sort. Darn it - she knew she sucked at flirting!
 
When he leaned in to kiss her forehead there was an expectant look on Ronnie's face. That look was being replaced by one of... disappointment? before she quickly averted her eyes. Could it be?

He hadn't wanted to push things too far too soon, but it seemed like he'd misjudged her. Releasing her from his hug, he immediately cupped her face with his hand and lifted it up for him to again lock eyes with her.

His voice brimming with trepidation and uncertainty, he told her: "Please tell me 'stop' if you don't want this, Ronnie." He'd never forgive himself if he didn't at least try.

He cautiously leaned in again and gave her a gentle kiss on her lips, closing his eyes as he did so.
 
Veronica didn't have time to register her disappointment at Scott releasing her, ending the hug that had been her lifeline in the torment of emotions that had spilled out while she mourned Elizabeth. For no sooner had he done that was he lifting her chin such that there was no hiding her eyes from his almost questioning gaze.

Please tell me 'stop' if you don't want this, Ronnie.

Veronica didn't trust her senses, let alone her voice. Did he mean his hug or something else? Looking into his eyes solemnly, unable to hide her own uncertainty, she actually missed his initial movement. It wasn't until his lips were mere inches from hers when she felt the first puff of his breath that she realized that he was going to kiss her, well maybe kiss her.

The first touch of his lips against hers was so soft she wasn't sure if she had imagined it. Vaguely she was aware his eyes were closed so surely that meant he was really kissing her. Closing her own eyes, she leaned into him slightly, giddy at the knowledge that she was finally getting to kiss him. Not want this? Was he serious?
 
Her leaning into his kiss was all the answer and encouragement he needed. With a happy sigh he embraced her again and leaned further into the kiss. They were both cautious at first, testing each other and getting familiar again with being this intimate with someone. But as they continued, Scott's lips started to tingle with pleasure and his mind was drained of any and all stressful thoughts as his mind focused only on the arousing sensations and of thoughts of how he had fallen for her, body and soul.

Not wanting to rush things, Scott refrained from using his tongue while kissing her. He felt they needed to take it slow as they both were fragile and both had been through hell the last few days and weeks.

After a couple of minutes they broke the kiss, and he spoke to her as he almost absentmindedly wiped away tears and strands of hair from her face. "I felt something the moment I saw the picture of you during briefing for the mission," he admitted shyly, smiling as he did so. "There was a fire in your eyes in that photo that made me think you were someone special."

He leaned in and kissed the scar on her cheek. "And I was right."
 
When he sighed and enfolded her in his arms once more, Veronica responded in kind with a similar sigh. It had been so long since she had even considered kissing someone, let alone doing it, and now she couldn't remember why she would have avoided it. As the kisses deepened, she acknowledged that perhaps it wasn't the act of kissing so much as who she was kissing.

Feeling like she was in 7th heaven, Veronica never wanted the kiss to end although she knew that it would eventually have to. When he started to slowly pull away, she followed suit. She smiled softly as he continued to wipe away the last remnants of her tears and even brushed some stragglers of hair from her face, fighting the urge to press a kiss into his palm.

I felt something the moment I saw the picture of you during briefing for the mission. There was a fire in your eyes in that photo that made me think you were someone special.

Veronica was speechless. She didn't know how to respond to the poetic words Scott was so shyly sharing. Words that caused tears to well up in her eyes once more, only this time not in sadness and grief. And then he topped it all by leaning in, kissing her scar and saying, "And I was right."

Veronica had to bite her lip to try to keep from crying again. She opened her mouth to try to say something and closed it, repeating that several times, before just shaking her head and giving him a wobbly smile.
 
Her smile and her fight to control her tears as well as her impersonation of a fish as she opened and closed her mouth made Scott fairly certain she had started falling for him as he had fallen for her. As his heart did a triple barrel roll of pleasure, he smiled broadly at her now, blushing as he did so. He hadn't expected to find this in the middle of a war zone.

"Ronnie, I..."

The words caught in his throat as he choked up out of sheer happiness. Tears started rolling down his face as he continued smiling at her. He couldn't ever remember being this happy, except that one time when his niece was born. Unable to express his feelings verbally, he pulled her in for a fierce hug and just held her, rocking back and forth. And then, after a short minute, he pulled away slightly and started kissing her again, more fire in his kiss now.
 
As his smile grew broader, Veronica couldn't get over how it lightened his entire face and her smile grew a little steadier. My goodness how his smile made her feel so warm and tingly inside.

Ronnie, I...

Veronica was surprised when tears started streaking down his cheeks, the small rivulets inviting her to reach out to brush them gently away. It was funny. She couldn't remember them actually having many lengthy discussions, but somehow it felt like she had known this handsome man forever.

She squeaked a little when he reached out and pulled her into a bear hug, not out of fear... merely from the unexpectedness of it. She cuddled into his embrace as he rocked her to and fro, wishing they could stay like that forever. When he pulled away to kiss her again, she mentally corrected herself... Despite how good his arms around her felt, this was ever so much better.

The intensity of their kissing swamped Veronica until she felt none of the aches and pains of her injuries, and she lost all track of time as it was just Scott and her and the headiness of the moment. So much so that she didn't hear the door open or the initial clearing of a throat until an obviously amused voice lightly called out, Okay, you two... It's time to break it up...

Veronica and Scott both pulled away and looked to the door with equally red faces to see one of the nurses leaning against the door jamb with a small smile tugging at her lips. Veronica looked back at Scott before reluctantly pushing herself to her feet, thinking Lieutenant Sinclair was here to tell her it was time to let Scott rest. Her next statement took Veronica totally off guard and she wasn't sure how to react.

Good news, you two... I was just told that you'll be heading stateside in a couple of hours, so let's get you guys ready to travel.
 
Okay, you two... It's time to break it up...

Scott felt like a blushing teenager caught by a teacher as he turned around and saw nurse Sinclair trying and failing to repress a little smile as she watched Ronnie and himself, blushing like moonstruck youths.

Good news, you two... I was just told that you'll be heading stateside in a couple of hours, so let's get you guys ready to travel.

The news hit Scott like a jackhammer. Travel? LEAVE!? "Then- then the siege is lifted?" He had to ask, to get confirmation that it was safe to travel again. Lt. Sinclair nodded, a broad smile on her face now. "Yes Ensign, the remaining SEALs and Rangers blazed a path right through the enemy positions along with a task force that had to fight its way here. Losses were heavy, I'm afraid," she said, a shadow crossing her face.

SCott couldn't bear not knowing, but he still dreaded her answer: "My- my team? Did anyone survive?" She nodded. "Not counting you, there are two survivors. One is listed as critical, while the other one is physically fine. He's being debriefed along with the surviving rangers. The fighting was bitter, but then you already knew that, Ensign."

Scott didn't answer. His team was no more. Wiped out. Only he and two other members remained. Nodding dully, he stood up and thanked Lt. Sinclair. He turned to Ronnie and forced a smile. "Home, huh? Gonna be great." He was hit by the realisation that he'd have to attend nine separate burials. And she would have to bury her friend Elisabeth. It should have been me! The thought popped up in his head, unwanted and unbidden.

His facade cracked and he broke down again, grief over his teammates combined with his mental exhaustion taking its toll.
 
Lt Sinclair's words echoed in Veronica's ears. Heading stateside... Going home... What's more it was going home in a couple of hours. She barely heard Scott's question about the siege and the Lieutenant's response.

Going home meant distance from everything that had happened here. Separation from the realities associated with her capture and resulting captivity. Having the distance and the ability to squash it down, compact it into a teeny tiny bundle and shoving it deep into the closet and locking the door tight. Sequestered in her own little apartment, she'd finally have privacy and wouldn't have to worry about someone like a Dr Berg barging in on her at all hours of the day and night.

But going home meant questions from friends and family who wished her well and questions from those who were just morbidly curious as to what happened. Questions that she'd either not want to or couldn't answer. The same likely type of questions she had fielded after the accident in college that left Mo and Corina dead and her limping and scarred. The same type of questions that would make her feel guilty over and over and over again for surviving.

Granted she wasn't the only one to have survived this time, but how did one explain that to a child. Perhaps when she was feeling stronger, she'd reach out to Elizabeth's ex and ask if she could speak to David. Maybe not right away, but later. She'd tell him about how much his mom had talked about him, had loved him...

'Going home though meant not being able to be near... him,' thought Veronica as she looked over at Scott for the first time since hearing the news. Looked up to see his beautiful blue eyes losing the sparkle that had lit them mere moments earlier. Saw the half assed smile that he tried to give her as he said, Home, huh? Gonna be great. Watched as he broke down again, anguish etched on his face for all to see.

Veronica stood up, her stiffening muscles letting her know that she was pushing herself more than was probably wise, but she still wanted to comfort him, to try to anyway. Hugging her arms around him, she murmured, "It will be okay, Scott... It will be okay."
 
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Scott wept in her arms, willing her to do the same. He hugged her tightly and muttered over and over again: "We made it. We're safe. We're going home." He looked up to see Lt. Sinclair standing in the doorway still, looking rather indecisive. Scott, with a monumental effort, composed himself. "I need to see my men. All of them." Lt. Sinclair seemed ready to protest, but Scott had regained enough of his poise and composure to not suffer any objections.

"If you'll follow me, ensign," Sinclair said meekly. First they took him to the morgue, where most of his men lay. They were not the only ones there. Scott went from man to man and whispered a final goodbye to some of the best men he'd ever fought with. Then he went to ICU and talked to one of the two survivors. He was intubated and hooked up to more machines than Scott cared to count. Scott leaned in and whispered in the man's ear, praise for his actions and regret for him lying there. He didn't talk of their dead teammates. That could wait. Finally, he visited the last survivor who turned out to be his XO. No words were said between them at first. They embraced in a powerful bearhug and just held each other for a few seconds.

Scott looked at his XO. "Rough deal," was all he could bring himself to say. His XO could only nod. "I'm going home. Probably out of the teams. I've had it." His XO just nodded again before he finally spoke: "Yeah, me too," he said with a ragged voice. They went to the bombed out remains of their barracks and sifted out their posessions, packing what could be salvaged. They headed to the big Starlifter that would bring them home and waited on the tarmac. Ronnie was already there, waiting. Scott went to her and embraced her again, just as a truck carrying coffins arrived. Scott was dressed in his parade uniform, wanting to go home in style. He gently whispered "I have to do this," before freeing himself from the embrace. Then he stood at attention and saluted the dead that would accompany them on their flight home.
 
Veronica closed her eyes as she felt Scott's body convulse from his weeping, hating how helpless she felt in her attempts to console him, wishing she could draw his pain into herself. There was only so much a person could take she knew, and she feared he had run up against his threshold so often that it was questionable whether or not he'd able truly be able to work past it.

She wanted to tell him how excited she was that they were safe and were going home, but suddenly the thought of being separated from her handsome rescuer was overwhelming. Trying to swallow past the lump in her throat, she continued to hold Scott until he finally squared his shoulders and announced, I need to see my men. All of them.

Seeing that Scott meant to follow through with his request, Veronica gave him one last reassuring squeeze before watching him follow Lt Sinclair out the door and out of sight without once looking back at her. She stood there a moment, trying to reign in her own emotions that were just at the edge of bursting through, and tried not to feel like she had been deserted.

Once she was sure she wouldn't break down in tears, Veronica subconsciously did her own impersonation of Scott by squaring her shoulders and walking resolutely out of the room. Not knowing what she was supposed to do, and not really having anything to ready in terms of belongings, she went around thanking the various hospital staff that had assisted her during her brief stay. Eventually Lt Sinclair tracked her down and told her it was time to go.

Passed off to a poor corpsman who she figured was passing by at the wrong time, Veronica found herself escorted outside to the tarmac and left next to what was likely to be her ride home with orders not to move until she was told to board. She waited dejectedly for someone to tell her what to do next, trying to drum up some semblance of excitement at the thought of going home.

It wasn't until Scott appeared once more, dressed so handsomely in his parade uniform, that Veronica felt her spirits lift, even temporarily. His hug helped even more. However, she quickly sobered when a truck bearing coffins arrived and Scott extracted himself to stand at attention. Not wanting to disturb his tribute to what she assumed were his fallen comrades, she stood nearby with her head lowered in her own version of respect.
 
It wasn't just the dead SEALs that were being shipped home. Scott gave up counting after the twentieth casket had passed them as they stood at attention, showing their respect for the dead. After the last casket had passed them, Scott and his XO came at ease. Scot softly shook his head and muttered "The price we pay..."

He turned towards Veronica, and looked at her as if for the first time. She would be going home... to what? Scott would be debriefed and processed by The Machine, evaluated to see if he still could be of service. He thought he could endure educating SEAL recruits in Coronado, but he would vehemently resist any more overseas combat deployments. He was through, the Navy knew it, and they would hopefully offer him a safe job. The armed forces sometimes took care of their own. Would Ronnie have the same luxury? Or would she be chewed up and spit out by the aid organisation she worked for if she didn't want to go back? And what about her trauma? She had yet, as far as Scott knew, to deal with that.

Scott looked at her, wondering if they would see each other back in the States. God, he hoped so. Overcome with concern and tenderness for her, he swept off his hat and embraced her once more. After a long hug he pulled away, his hands on her shoulders. With a look of concern he asked her: "What will you do when you get home, Ronnie? I am unsure whether I want to stay in the navy and train new recruits or find another job as a civilian. The navy has been my home and employer for more than a decade now. I'm unsure whether or not I'd fit in as a civilian. On the other hand, I've had it with combat. Will you continue work for the aid organisation or will you look for work elsewhere?"

He knew she was a nurse, and he knew she was resourceful. Barring any problems from any lingering PTSD, she'd probably land on her feet. But she had a stubborn streak that might just be harmful to her now. She needed to cope, to vent. And Scott so badly wanted to be there for her. They at least had the flight together. They could talk, exchange addresses and phone numbers. Scott felt very strongly that he didn't want to let go of her. He needed her like he suspected she needed him. But how to put it?

Screw it. Sometimes the best approach was a direct one. Squaring his shoulders again, he looked at her solemnly. "Ronnie, I don't want to lose you now that I've just met you. I feel, even though we've only known each other for a few days, that I need you in my life." And you need me in yours, he didn't add.

And then he kissed her.
 
Veronica lost track of the number of caskets that were respectfully shuttled past them, and quite frankly she'd rather not know the final number anyway. It was too troubling to see and while she wanted to close her eyes and hide from the sight, she continued to stand there with her head bowed although her arms wrapped around her torso in a semblance of a hug.

So many not returning home. Did they have loved ones worrying about them? Praying for their safety? Tears welled in her eyes, and she willed herself to stand strong. Crying wouldn't help, and she didn't want to cause a scene. Pressing her fingernails into her palms, she welcomed the pain that distracted her from her thoughts.

She thought she heard Scott say something and blinked a couple of times to ensure no tears would fall before she looked up at him. There was something about the way he was looking at her that made Veronica wonder what was going on behind those gorgeous eyes of his. She might have pulled the ultimate female move and just flat out asked him what he was thinking, but he whipped off his hat and had pulled her to him for a hug before she could do more than contemplate it.

It was heaven, simply heaven, to feel his strong arms around her and she would have happily stayed there until it was time to get on the plane. Her eyelids had just closed when she felt Scott start to move and they fluttered open again in confusion. Did I miss someone saying it was time to get aboard?

What will you do when you get home, Ronnie? I am unsure whether I want to stay in the navy and train new recruits or find another job as a civilian. The navy has been my home and employer for more than a decade now. I'm unsure whether or not I'd fit in as a civilian. On the other hand, I've had it with combat. Will you continue work for the aid organisation or will you look for work elsewhere?

Looking up at him, with his hands resting on her shoulders, Veronica wished she had good answers to alleviate the concern that she clearly heard in his voice and saw on his face, but she honestly wasn't sure what she was going to do. Technically she owed her current employer 9 months of service, although she wasn't sure what would happen given what had happened... with Dr Berg, Elizabeth and herself. Her mind balked at continuing with those thoughts. She'd figure something out once she was holed up in her tiny apartment back home.

Ronnie, I don't want to lose you now that I've just met you. I feel, even though we've only known each other for a few days, that I need you in my life.

His words so earnestly spoken overwhelmed her, and she was afraid that the tears she had kept at bay earlier would start falling. And then he leaned in and placed his warm lips to hers and she forgot about everything. No tears. No future plans. No caskets. Nothing but the press of his body against hers and the tingling she felt under the press of his lips to hers.
 
The whine of the jet engines brought Scott reluctantly out of the blissful kiss he shared with Veronica. One of the crewmembers of the huge transport approached Scott and Ronnie almost timidly. Scott knew what he would say before he said it: it was time to board the plane and for him and Ronnie to go home.

Scott leaned in and put his mouth close to her ear. "You ready to go home, Ronnie?" It was a serious question. Scott knew that going home could be very disorienting, and Ronnie had yet to cope with what had happened to her as far as Scott knew. She had been so close when they'd first landed after the rescue, but then events unfolded and she seemed to repress.

Placing his hat back on his head, Scott put his arm around her shoulder and guided her aboard the Starlifter. They were shown to adjacent seats by one of the crew members, and they were soon strapped in. There were no windows, nor any in-flight movies or other diversions. All they had was either sleep or talking with each other. Apart from getting lost in their own heads, of course.

Only after they'd found their seats did they become aware that they would be sharing the flight with a gaggle of reporters. The same reporters that ha hounded Ronnie after her rescue. The same reporters that had been thrashed by Scott. Some still sported bruises and black eyes. Some avoided Scott's eyes while others glared at him. Scott didn't much care, but hoped they would behave themselves on the flight home.

Clasping her hand, he looked at Ronnie, at weary yet happy expression on his face. "So what will you do when you get home?" And how will you cope, he didn't add.
 
As soon as Scott started to pull away, Veronica wanted to howl like a toddler denied a treat. Why was he stopping? They weren't going to have much time before they'd be getting.... And that's when she finally realized the plane had started up and felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.

You ready to go home, Ronnie?

The touch of his lips against her ear made her shiver, but not nearly as much as the thought of going home did and that confused the hell out of her. Surely she wanted to go home... To get away from this awful place... To get clear of the memories of... Shutting down those thoughts with an intensity that had her practically panting, she looked up at Scott, pasted on a fake smile and nodded, knowing she wouldn't be able to speak past the rapidly growing lump in her throat.

Her legs felt suddenly shaky and Veronica was thankful when Scott threw his arm around her shoulders and helped her get aboard. She hoped he couldn't feel the trembling that seemed to be growing stronger with each step and sank gratefully into the seat she was directed. It took her several attempts to get the seat belt fastened because the shaking was beginning to manifest itself in her hands as well.

Blowing out an angry breath at her body's odd behavior, Veronica looked up in frustration, wondering what her problem was. When she saw the group of civilians who were clearly reporters, she froze and her face lost color. Only the touch of Scott's hand as he took her ice cold one in his warm grip broke the eye contact she had with one surly looking man sporting a vividly colorful black eye.

So what will you do when you get home?

Looking over at his exhausted, but clearly happy face, Veronica was at a loss for what to say for fear of ruining his obvious excitement of returning home. Her smile came nowhere close to her eyes as she finally said, "Sleep... Sleep in my own bed with my own pillows and not worry about getting sandy."
 
Ronnie worried him. Her shaking told him she was fighting a battle with herself. He'd seen it before in others. He'd been there himself. She was pale and cold and shaking, and her answer lacked conviction, as did her smile. Scott felt a lump form in his throat as he watched her struggle, and he was again struck by the random unfairness of it all. No one should have endured what she had. That she wasn't a shivering mess, crying on the floor, spoke volumes of her strength. But that strentgh worked against her now. Strength, or stubbornness? Either way, she was slowly eating up herself by repressing and denying.

Scott took a firmer hold of her hand, but didn't speak before they were airborne. Then he caught her eyes with his and looked at her, concern etched across his face. "Ronnie, we need to talk. You're safe now, it's okay to let go. I know some of the thoughts and emotions swirling through you right now, I've had them myself. You're trying to convince yourself that everything's okay, but your entire body protests, saying to you that everything's far from okay. You're afraid of going home, you're afraid to stay."

Scott swallowed a rising lump in his throat and wiped away tears from his eyes. "When you get home it will not be the same as when you left, because you've changed. Your friends' and relatives' concerns and worries will seem trivial to you compared to what you've been through. Some of your nearest and dearest will pull away from you because they don't recognise you any more. Others will fight tooth and nail to stay by your side, even thoguh you do what you can to reject them. It's VERY confusing, believe me."

He paused, his own hands shaking now as memories of arguments and broken friendships came back to haunt him. "Ronnie, it's time to acknowledge to yourself what you've been through. Give in. Vent. I'm here for you. And if any of those journalist pukes interfere, well, then they are slow learners."

He said the last with a grim smile and a threatening glance towards the journalists. Some of them had been craning their necks and "accidentally" walking past his and Ronnie's seats. He gave them his coldest stare, what his men had dubbed 'the thousand-yard stare'. The journalists that he could see suddenly became very preoccupied with anything not in the direction of Scott and Ronnie. With grim satisfaction, Scott returned his attention to Ronnie.
 
Veronica watched as Scott just looked at her, skepticism clearly etched on his face, leaving her wondering what he was thinking. Instead of saying anything, however, his lips tightened a moment before he squeezed her hand and looked away as the plane readied for take off. Telling herself that it was only because she was a nervous flier, she clung to his hand as if she could draw on some if his strength and tried to get herself under control.

Even after the plane had taken off and had leveled out, she continued working on the breathing techniques she had learned after the accident, while recovering from one painful operation after the other. She was just congratulating herself for getting the shaking under control when Scott turned to her with a determined look on his handsome face.

Ronnie, we need to talk...

What followed left Veronica reeling in confusion and disbelief. Scott was surely projecting his experiences onto her. He was the one who had to deal with violence on a daily, almost hourly basis, and he had clearly reached the end of his rope. Poor man thought her simple captivity was on par with what he and his fellow soldiers went through, not realizing that while it had been scary... It was clearly over and she was more than ready and able to move on.

Seeing the tears forming in his beautiful eyes caused a similar moisture to gather in hers. What a sweet, but confused man. He was obviously going to need professional assistance when he got home, and she hoped the military would take care of him. The shadow that passed over his face just about broke her heart, which would explain why she was having a hard time swallowing.

Ronnie, it's time to acknowledge to yourself what you've been through. Give in. Vent. I'm here for you. And if any of those journalist pukes interfere, well, then they are slow learners.

Veronica watched as Scott sent a cold glare towards the reporters, and even she barely suppressed a shudder at the contained violence on his face. The look niggled something in the back of her mind, something scary that she wanted no part of it. Her gaze lost focus for several long minutes as she fought against whatever her subconscious was trying to show her.
 
It was plain for Scott to see that Ronnie was struggling. It was equally plain for him to see that he shouldn't push her any further. She had that confused look he knew so painfully well. He'd seen it in the face of his fellow soldiers, and once in the mirror after a particularly heavy round of drinking after his first tour of duty. It was the pained look of confusion one felt when repressed memories started butting in, unbidden.

Anything could set those memories off. Sounds. Smells. Gestures and movements. Colours. With a sinking feeling, Scott realised that HE might be a trigger of bad memories for her. Shit. Shit-shit-shit! That was the last thing he wanted to be for her. Scott sat for a few minutes, thinking things through as Ronnie lived through her own private almost-Hell.

He slowly grasped her hand again to bring her back to him, and he started talking about where he lived and his options now that he was no longer going to be on the sharp point of the spear. He lived in a small flat in an apartment complex on the outskirts of San Diego, close to the beach. He loved to swim and scuba dive and he was a voracious reader and he also collected films.

He kept this seemingly carefree banter going as he tried to give her time to either deal or compose herself. After a while he sought out her eyes with his and smiled almost shyly. "So, um, what about you? Where do you live?"
 
A long hallway... Sudden lights when she had been in almost total darkness. The soft sound of almost broken weeping in the distance. A steel-like grasp on her upper arm as she's dragged towards the source...

Veronica slammed the door shut against the seemingly random thoughts in her head, wanting absolutely nothing to do with what might be at the end of that hallway. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and while part of her realized she was on an airplane, sitting next to a very handsome man, the other half urged her to run and run away fast.

The feeling of strong, but gentle fingers lightly squeezing her still cool ones helped anchor her, and Scott's evenly measured tones as he talked about life back in the states allowed her to finish blockading whatever lay behind that closed door. She wasn't sure if he realized she had blanked out there a moment, but she was forever grateful he started talking, even if some of what he said made her sad.

So, um, what about you? Where do you live?

Feeling like she could stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his forever, Veronica returned his shy smile with a slightly crooked one of her own before responding, "Just outside of DC, on the Virginia side." There was no disguising the disappointment she felt at realizing they lived on opposite coasts. Taking a deep breath, she forced a more cheerful tone as she went on to explain that while she loved to swim too, she was more into hiking along the Appalachian trails and camping whenever time permitted. At one point she had been a fierce soccer player, but the accident had taken away much of her maneuverability, but she still liked to kick a ball around.

"I'll read just about anything, and there's not a crossword puzzle that I can't do," she said with a straight face, before adding, "although I can't necessarily finish them." The smile she gave him was a little more natural, but still not close to her normal wattage ones.
 
They settled down in their seats, making small talk about home for a while. He chuckled at her little joke about crosswords and pretended not to notice that her smile seemed diminished. She was clearly still bothered by something. Scott's mind was going a mile a minute. He knew there was a SEAL training facility in Virginia. But could they, SHOULD they try to make a go of it? Right here, right now, it seemed the right thing to do.

After a few hours, Scott mentally disentangled himself from the warm cocoon of 'safe' small talk and looked at Ronnie again. "Ronnie, sweetheart, I need to ask you something. I- we haven't known each other for long. This might seem crazy to you but... if I decide to stay on as an instructor for the SEALs I might apply for a posting at Little Creek in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Now, I know that sounds rash but..."

And then his courage failed him. "Or- or maybe you need time to get your feet back on the ground first. See, I always do this when I get too eager. I start to push. You probably don't want to be reminded each day what you went through when- when you were- when..."

Scott trailed off and fell silent. His foot had made a beeline straight for his mouth and was now firmly embedded in it. A great sadness filled him as he watched her. She deserved a nice man, not a professional killer that had slaughtered his way through illiterate and poor fanatics to rescue her. But then, if he hadn't killed those men she'd be dead now. Or worse.

He looked at her, panic and fear of losing her rising in him.
 
Veronica looked down at the clasped hands resting on her thigh, marveling at the differences between Scott's deeply tanned, roughened hand and her paler, softer one. Differences that had been hammered home as they continued talking for hours about what they wanted to do, see and eat when they got home, but for all their differences, they seemed to be oddly complementary, which was exciting and scary at the same time.

Despite the small talk, she was a little alarmed at how difficult it was to keep that one door shut tight. Something very bad wanted out, and she was equally determined to keep it in. Needed it to stay in... She glanced over at the reporters and cringed to think what they would say if that door opened up while they were around. Focus on Scott...

Later on, she would remember the way he suddenly sat up straighter and almost squared his shoulders like he had made a momentous decision before starting to ramble about not knowing each other for long and opportunities at Little Creek. Her eyes had gotten wider and she had felt practically giddy at the thought of him being close by.

Or- or maybe you need time to get your feet back on the ground first. See, I always do this when I get too eager. I start to push. You probably don't want to be reminded each day what you went through when- when you were- when...

Veronica wasn't sure if Scott actually stopped talking or she just stopped listening when the locked door began rattling like a battering ram was being applied against it as the words what you went through when... when you were... when... echoed in her mind. When I was what?!?! Nothing happened... I was captured, questioned and rescued... Rescued...

Her fingers tightened and her breathing quickened as she struggled to keep the door shut. Keep it shut, keep it shut... Dear God, keep my shut... Her eyes, while open, saw nothing as her internal battle waged on.
 
The look on her face told Scott everything he needed to know. Or at least, he thought so. He had blown it. He had pushed too hard and too soon, damn it! Scott retreated into his head, having misunderstood her glazed look completely.

As they were further and further removed from the combat zone, the immediacy of their shared intimacies seemed to Scott more and more like a shared dream. They had needed each other as anchors when their minds had revolted against the horrors they'd witnessed and participated in. And now they were headed for home, a place that would never be the same for neither of them.

With an ever sinking heart, Scott swallowed hard as he came to realise that they more than likely would part ways as soon as they touched down. Their parting would be awkward and polite, and they would gradually forget or repress and distort their memories of what had happened between them.

But still there was something nagging at the back of his head. It was the way she looked at him, the way she clasped his hand, the way she kissed him. The way they just seemed to FIT, damn it!

All these thoughts ran through his head in the space of a couple of minutes. He went from sadness to despair to anger. He used a few minutes to calm himself again, still oblivious to the blank look on her face and still very conscious of her soft cool hand still clasped in his.

He looked at her again and decided one of them had to say SOMETHING. "Look Ronnie, I'm really not in the habit of pulling up stakes and moving across the continent for the first woman I meet. I feel we have or at least had something special together. And my offer to move to Virginia is a sincere and honest one. I have no family on the West Coast anyway, and most of my friends are in the SEAL community evenly dispersed on the East and West coasts. Plus my sister with her little family live in upstate New York."

Oh there he went, blabbering on again. "The thing is, despite the fact that we haven't known each other for long, it feels so RIGHT to me to be with you. But I have to think about you as well. I don't know if you want a daily reminder in your life of your ordeal and mistreatment in the hands of those fucking retards that captured you and your crew. For all I know you want to forget about me and this whole hostage thing as soon as you get home. And no one would blame you for it. But I'm really scared of you wanting nothing more to do with me because of that. The thought scares me more than I can put into words."

At that moment, he felt a change in the airplane, and the captain came on the speakers to announce that they had started their descent and would land in the USA in less than thirty minutes.
 
Veronica almost moaned in complete despair when the door creaked open and the images started rolling out in slow motion.

A long hallway...

She knew she should recognize the corridor that seemed to stretch on for miles... Should, but didn't want to... No, no... She didn't want to. Wanted to turn around... Wanted to run away.

Sudden lights when she had been in almost total darkness.

The light had hurt her eyes and she had blinked rapidly in an attempt to shield her over sensitized eyes, but no... She didn't want to see... Not what lay at the end of the hallway.

The soft sound of almost broken weeping in the distance.

She could tell it was a woman crying up ahead, and she wanted desperately to comfort her, to tell her it would be alright... but at the same time, she feared the end of the hallway... knew without the shadow of a doubt that something bad waited at the end of the hallway.

A steel-like grasp on her upper arm as she's dragged towards the source.

She wasn't sure why she continued to fight against the fingers that clenched her arm tightly... Knowing that it only made things worse, but she instinctively knew that what lay ahead was worse than anything they had dished out yet. She fought against the hold, dragging her heels and had been slammed into the wall so hard that things started to go black.

The sound of repeated skin on skin contact.

Head spinning, unable to walk without assistance, the sounds made her cringe, knowing that someone was being slapped over and over again. Knew it would leave the other person moaning in pain and reeling in confusion. Knew their ears would be ringing and their mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood.

Rapid fire screaming in a language she didn't understand.

With a surge of pure adrenaline-fueled strength, Veronica slammed the hated door shut just as Scott started talking, and she turned in desperation to him, knowing that he could keep the door shut, could save her from whatever sought release. To hear him talk about moving to Virginia filled her with a sense of happiness that she wanted to hold tight to her chest in an attempt to warm her chilled body. Everything sounded simply wonderful, almost a balm to her shredded emotions until he started talking about the capture and the banging on the door started up again.

The sudden announcement by the captain caused her to flinch, thinking that the thing behind the door had somehow gotten out. Fine tremors manifested themselves in her hands and legs as she struggled to maintain her composure. She was NOT going to lose it... Not here, not now... There were too many people, too many eyes.
 
Home. They were almost home! Scott's stomach convulsed into a knot of uncertainty and expectation. What would happen to him now? And what about Veronica? More than likely, he would be put through the proverbial wringer as soon as the airplane had come to a stop. He would probably be whisked off for a thorough debrief and evaluation of the mission, and then he'd have several long talk with psychologists and/or psychiatrists before they would determine if he was still fit for any kind of military duty. His country had spent time and resources to train Scott to become one of the elite, and they had gotten some mileage out of him in the field. But he could still be of use as an instructor if they deemed him unfit for deployment. And what about Dr. Berg? Would he have to be interrogated by civilian/federal authorities about him?

Questions, apprehension, excitement; all these emotions swirled in Scott's head as the air pressure in the cabin changed when the plane descended. And always his mind returned to Ronnie and him. She had never answered him regarding him moving to Virginia, and even now she had that glazed and haunted look about her. It was almost as if...

A realisation hit Scott like lightning. What if her silence wasn't due to him being pushy about them being togther at all? What if... Of course! Scott could have kicked himself. He'd seen this before. She hadn't allowed hweself to deal with her ordeal on a conscious level, and that worked out just fine in a situation of heightened danger, like an airbase under siege. But now she was almost home, and safe. Her body and mind would start to relax and repressed memories might resurface. He'd been through it himself. He'd seen it happen to his men.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear: "I don't know where your mind is right now, but I bet it isn't a pleasant place. Come back to me Ronnie. I'm here for you. I've been through what I think you're going through. Don't run away from your worst memories. Acknowledge them unless you want them to ruin you."

The plane touched down. A subdued cheer rose and reverberated through the cabin.
 
The faint sound of broken weeping echoed in her ears, but Scott's deep voice whispering in her ear effectively muted it.

I don't know where your mind is right now, but I bet it isn't a pleasant place. Come back to me Ronnie. I'm here for you. I've been through what I think you're going through. Don't run away from your worst memories. Acknowledge them unless you want them to ruin you.

Her eyelids dropped closed, trying to clutch to her the shivery sense of excitement as she felt his warm breath stir the fine hairs on her neck. However his words continued to worm through that comforting heat. She wasn't sure what he was talking about - knowing what she was going through. Her recent experiences were nothing like what he went through as a soldier. Yes, the ambush and capture had been terrifying... The captivity had been nerve wracking because she hadn't understood a word anyone said, and they hadn't allowed her to see Dr Berg or...

Her free hand clenched into a tight fist and her lips compressed in a straight line. Yes, it had sucked, but she was safe. He had saved her. And yet, there was something... just out of sight... That seemed to be lurking just on the edges of her mind. Was that what he meant? Was there something for her to acknowledge?

Veronica searched for the words to explain what she was thinking... feeling... struggling with whether or not she wanted to truly see what was hammering on the door deep within her mind. Maybe he'll understand what that even means... As she opened her eyes ready to speak, she locked gazes with one of the reporters who was watching her as if she was his next hot topic.

Determined not to give anything even remotely reportable, Veronica straightened her backbone just as the plane touched down. Once the relieved cheer of celebration finished echoing, she turned to Scott and offered the only semi-plausible thing she could think of for her odd behavior, "Sorry, I, um, I'm not much of a flyer." She tried to give him a smile, but wasn't sure if it was very believable.
 
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