To the Victors Belong the Spoils

by pickleplum

Summary:

Chuck Hansen has dedicated his life to becoming a Jaeger pilot, but when that dream's snatched away, he needs to find another path forward.

Notes:

• For WeekendWriter.

Chapter 1: Tomorrow

Summary:

Chuck shares some good news with his best friend, Mako.

Notes:

11 January 2018
Chuck's quarters, Sydney Shatterdome

- King Edward: too fierce to handle (10/12/19, Anchorage) -

Chuck, chin braced on his palm, sighs and flicks his eyes—

""It is five minutes later than the last time you looked, Cadet Hansen,"" says AGNIS.

With a frustrated huff, Chuck flips and catches his pencil, grumbles, "She said she'd call."

""Twenty minutes remain before Miss Mori's curfew.""

"I know. 's why I'm worried."

""Perhaps you should distract yourself by completing the homework you've been evading for the last half-hour.""

"'s pointless."

""That, in itself, may be the point, Cadet.""

Chuck rolls his eyes, heaves himself out of his chair, ambles to his bunk, flops down.

Max stands, wags, rests his front half on Chuck's chest, whuffles.

Chuck absently scratches his chins.

Max pants happily.

scritch-scritch-stritch

pant-pant

scritch-scritch-scritch

pant—

""Incoming call—""

Chuck lifts Max—"Sorry, Handsome"—wiggles out from under, throws himself across the room—

""—from Miss Mako Mori, Anchorage Shatterdome.""

—into his desk chair, slaps his tablet awake.

The intercom speaker clears its throat.

"Thanks, AGNIS."

""You're welcome, Cadet.""

The tablet screen resolves, its speaker chimes.

""Chuck!""

"Mako!"

""I'm sorry I'm so late. I was helping the triplets with—"" Glances over her shoulder, turns back, grinning. ""—something.""

"Something fun, hopefully?"

""For them,"" she giggles.

"Are they gonna end up on the clothesline again?"

""Probably not?""

Chuck laughs.

"It was mostly Chuck and I working out. Had our best Kwoon session ever. We were really in the same groove." Grimaces. "Until Ranger Scarface interrupted."

Mako rolls her eyes. ""What did he say this time?""

"Called Chuck 'Affirmative Action' and told her to go home to the Outback. Again."

""And she ...?""

"Planted her hanbo, leaned on it, and looked at him until—did I tell you what she did to his brother last month?"

""I don't think so?""

"He pulled her braid when she tried to ignore him, so she hanged him with it."

""He survived?""

"Unfortunately."

""Do you think he'll ever give up?""

"Doubt it. He's a total idiot." Chuck shrugs. "Aaaaanyway, she just looked at him until he got bored at took a swing at her."

""And then?""

"She says, 'You want what I did to your brother?' And he says, 'If you're a one-trick kid, sure.' Then she tried to hang him, but he dodged and started laughing."

""Then?""

"She cracked him across the head with her hanbo and clocked him 'til he stopped laughing."

Mako sniffs approval.

"Yea, she's almost as good as me."

""Chuck ....""

"What? We're good: the best Cadets without Jaegers." He grins like a loon. "Don't tell anyone, but we have a Drift Compatibility test tomorrow and then we'll officially be copilots!" He just avoids squeeing.

""You are so lucky,"" sighs Mako. ""I still can't even start at the Academy.""

"We'll wear him down eventually."

""I hope so. I don't want you to get too far ahead of me.""

Chuck scoffs. "You'll catch up in no time. I'm happy I'm gettin' a head start."

Mako giggles.

Chuck grins.

Mako's face falls and she fiddles with the cuff of her jumper, eyes off to the left of the camera.

"What's wrong?"

""I'm remembering our Drift,"" she replies, quiet.

"Oh, uh, yea." Chuck rubs the back of his neck. "That ... I wish that'd gone differently."

""Me, too,"" she whispers.

Chuck picks up and fidgets with a pencil. "Brilliant as Chuck is, I wish you were gonna be my copilot."

Mako says nothing.

"You'll get your Jaeger. I know you will."

""Thank you for saying that.""

"I'm not just saying it: I believe it." He leans closer to the screen, gestures forcefully. "They'd be stupid not to give you one. Then we'll be teammates."

Mako blushes and leans into her screen. ""What's that on your arm?""

"Wha?" Chuck looks down. "Oh! It's our logo! For our Jaeger. Chuck and I got tattoos." He offers his forearm to the camera.

Mako peers, then breaks out in sparkles. ""It's really cute!""

"It. is. not," growls Chuck. "It's fierce."

""Whatever you say,"" snickers Mako.

"I'm gonna hang up—"

""Don't! Please!""

Chuck crosses his arms, huffs.

Mako attends something offscreen, pouts at whatever it is, then relents.

"Bedtime, ay?"

""Yes,"" she sulks. ""Goodnight and good luck on your test tomorrow.""

"Thanks! Goodnight to you, too!"

Mako reaches and the screen goes black.

Chuck pushes his chair into a slow spin, smiling to himself.

""Your homework will not complete itself, Cadet.""

"So?"

""So you will receive a zero for the lesson.""

"Who cares?"

""Judging from previous incidents, I believe your teacher and your father will care.""

"Well, I don't 'cause tomorrow I'm gonna get my Jaeger."

AGNIS sighs. ""You should complete your assignment, just to be safe.""

Chuck rolls his eyes, but picks up the pencil and touches it to paper.

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by Maarten [CC BY 2.0] via Flickr.

Strap in, folks.

Chapter 2: Fall

Summary:

Chuck and Chuck prove Drift Compatible in the simulator, but that's when things start going wrong.

Notes:

12 January 2018
DriftSci offices, Sydney Shatterdome

- Anchorage, July 2014 — Raleigh B. -

They're in the simulator: him on the right; Chuck on the left, and everything's how it's supposed to be, everything's synced and they're gonna be copilots and the Mark V is theirs and Chuck's on the right.

(Take that, Old Man.)

""Neural Handshake: terminated,"" announces AGNIS.

Blue memories swirl, swirl down, away.

""Good job, Cadets. Go ahead and disconnect yourselves,"" says Director Donnelly.

They do (in sync).

She's grinning like a lunatic.

Chuck's pretty sure he is, too.

They float out to the anteroom, hover, internally squeeing (he can feel her panicky glee just like his), and basking in being copilots.

Donnelly materializes, glowing. "Congratulations, you two."

"Thank you," they chorus.

"I've already sent your results to the Marshal so he can take the next steps."

Chuck's heart sings!

"I need to duck into the lab to check on something, but I'll be right back to walk you down for the post-test check-up, alright?"

They nod.

Chuck's vision lags his head a fraction.

(Weird.)

"I finally have a Jaeger," she says.

"We finally have a Jaeger."

"Semantics."

"It's not—we're a-a-a—" He frowns.

She raises an eyebrow.

"A team. We're a team." Puffs up. "And I'm in charge."

She rolls her eyes. "You won a coin-flip today. That's no guarantee—"

"You're—" Chuck points, but his left arm flops uselessly. "You're no' the 'oss!"

She scowls.

"Wha?"

"Just because you're twelve—"

"Four'een!"

"—doesn't mean you have to act twelve."

"'m no'!"

She turns a funny colour.

"Wha?!"

Her nose twitches.

Chuck touches his.

His fingers come away bloody.

""AGNIS! Medics!""

His blood freezes, ears ring, vision goes—

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by Mr Hicks46 [CC BY-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

This cribs heavily from an as-yet-unposted fic by artificiallifecreator that I've been privileged to see.

Here's where the world of the movie and the world of this story diverge. In my version of the movie universe, it's Other Chuck who suffers the results of this disastrous Drift.

This would also be the point I started feeling really bad about what I was starting to do to a KID. Chuck is fourteen--and I'm using the novelization date for his Academy graduation to place this in time. Let that sink in.

Chuck Hansen.
Is.
FOURTEEN.

And he's already an Academy graduate and less than two years away from piloting a giant machine to fight gigantic monsters.

FOURTEEN.

Chapter 3: Trauma

Summary:

The news of Chuck's collapse reaches Herc.

Notes:

12 January 2018
various locations, Sydney metropolitan area

- Fruitcake, Anchorage, January 2018 — Raleigh B. -

Herc sighs to a stop, shields his eyes against the light for a better view of the crocs sunning themselves on the helipad—

Max trundles off to re-inspect a clump of brush.

—checks his watch, frowns.

"Shoulda brought the mobile," he mutters. "C'mon, Max." Tugs the lead.

"Whuff."

Halfway along the short-ish path back, a sweat-soaked trooper skids up.

Max woofs, wags his tail.

Herc stops, raises an eyebrow.

"Sir," they pant, "you need to come with me right away."

Herc's blood chills. "Wha—"

"You just need to come. Now."

He scoops up Max and they sprint to the motor pool.

The trooper eases Max from his arms; Henry stuffs him into a waiting car, dives in behind; the driver pulls off as soon as the door closes.

"Belt up," orders Henry.

Herc fumbles, croaks, "What—"

"There was an accident—"

Herc's heart stops dead.

"—and Chuck's been airlifted to hospital."

His voice comes out tiny and strangled: "What—"

""Something went wrong with the test and he collapsed. We'll find out more when we get there.""

Herc might be breathing.

""Other Chuck seems alright and they're keeping a really close eye on her.""

Herc might be breathing.

The car stops; Herc fumbles; Henry releases him, drags him through the entrance, down a hallway, pushes him through a door labeled 'Trauma'.

A person in hospital colours gets to their feet—

""Victor Martijn. How is he?""

""I'm sorry, I can't—""

""This's his father. He's in a bit of shock.""

Herc's ass meets a chair as he's shoved down.

""They're stabilising him. That's all we'll know until they do.""

""He's still alive, then?""

""Yes.""

Herc might be breathing.

Henry sits down next to him, whispers in his ear, "We're using that name—Martijn—to throw off Nosey Nans. Sure as fuck don't need them right now."

Herc acknowledges.

"He's in the best hands."

Herc hunches, hands between his knees, metal under his fingers.

""Mister—""

Herc startles—

"—Martijn—"

—blinks rapidly.

Henry tugs him upright.

"—the doctor will see you now," says the receptionist. "This way, please."

Herc plods after her, Henry at his heels, to a little room nestled behind the front desk.

Henry pushes him into a chair.

"Officer Martijn," greets the bright-eyed middle-aged man inside, with a bow. He sits. "Doctor Stephen Sticht. I'm treating Victor."

"Thank you," rasps Herc. "Where's my son?"

"He's being moved to the ICU."

Herc pushes to his feet. "Where's that?"

"You can't see him yet. We're still getting him settled."

Herc looms. "I'm going to see him if I have to go through the bloody wall and you."

Sticht holds his ground. "I can't let you do that. They need to concentrate on—"

"That's my son!"

Henry puts a hand on his shoulder.

Herc whirls—

"You're not helping your boy."

—deflates, mumbles, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now sit down."

Herc does. "What happened?"

"Your Doctor Lightcap is going over the information we have to figure out the 'why', but the 'what' is, simply, Victor's had a severe stroke."

Herc swallows, still croaks, "Neural surge."

Sticht nods. "Both your Doctor Donnelly and Lightcap mentioned that as a possible cause."

Herc stomach goes funnier.

"It happened right in front of Donnelly and medics got there in minutes, which probably saved his life."

"Thank God for them," murmurs Henry.

Sticht grunts. "Several blood vessels in Victor's brain ruptured and the resulting hemorrhage caused pressure to build up in his skull. We've put in drains to relieve the pressure and started him on drugs to reduce swelling."

Herc twists his ring, tries to breathe for the ribs crushing his lungs.

"There's certainly been some damage, but Victor's young so his chances for recovery are excellent. We're going to keep him in an induced coma until the swelling is gone and we can see the full extent of the damage with an MRI."

"How—" Herc swallows. Swallows again. "How bad?"

"We won't have an idea until the MRI and there's no way to know for certain, but it's likely life-changing. He has a long, hard road in front of him." Sticht spreads his hands. "I wish I had something more concrete and encouraging to tell you, but there's no point sugar-coating this sort of thing."

Herc nods.

Sticht offers a not-reassuring-enough smile, stands. "I'm going to go check on him. Someone will bring you up when Victor's ready for company."

"Thanks," whispers Herc.

Sticht smiles the same smile, leaves.

A long moment of silence.

"He's gonna make it," sighs Henry, sagging back.

"'Life-changing' ... what if he—" His throat closes.

"He's alive, son. The rest will sort itself out."

Herc bows his head, twists his ring.

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by KayVee.INC [CC BY-NC 2.0] via Flickr.

And here's where I started feeling like a terrible human being for what I was doing to this kid. Even loading it is making me feel awful. Ugh.

About Henry: Henry du Croz fills a role my co-conspirators and I have developed, that of the Ranger Handler, sort of a personal assistant for each team of Jaeger pilots. Henry's a nigh-retirement age RAAF officer recruited to keep Scott and Herc on the (relatively) straight and narrow. He's quite good at it as he takes no crap and held an RAAF rank higher than either brother.

And 'Martijn'? That would be Angela's maiden name.

Chapter 4: Can't

Summary:

The severity of the situation dawns on Herc.

Notes:

12 January 2018
hospital, Sydney metropolitan area

- Charles Victor Hansen, 14 August 2003 -

"Mister—"

Herc's on his feet.

"—Martijn, I can take you to see Victor now," says someone in hospital colours.

Herc's at the door out of the ward.

The staffer leads them to a lift, then out and into another waiting area. "Only one visitor at a time."

"I'll be right here," says Henry. "Take this—" Presses Herc's mobile into his hand. "—and call, text if you need anything, alright?"

Herc swallows, nods, slides the thing into his pocket, nods to the staffer.

They steer him into the farthest patient room.

Chuck lies there, tied down with tubes and wires, under white sheets.

Herc collapses on the bedside chair.

Staffer slips out, leaves the door open a crack.

Machines beep, steady.

Herc hunches, hands between his knees, metal under his fingers.

Chuck lies there, pale and still.

Machines beep and hiss, steady.

Herc twists his wedding ring.

squeak!

He startles, digs out and thumbs on his mobile.

HdC: It's official: yr on leave long as you need.

h_hansen: Thx

HdC: All yr calls et c are going thru me

HdC: Penny says vid anytime

Herc smiles, wipes his eyes on his shoulder.

h_hansen: Thx

Herc looks—

Chuck lies there.

—opens the video call app, pokes the only contact.

The screen resolves the image of Stacker in front of the bookcase in his living room.

""Herc,"" he greets.

"Stacker." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know how much ...."

""Henry shared everything he knows.""

Herc grunts.

""I told Mako. I hope that alright.""

"'s fine," he croaks. "He'd want to know, if something happened to her."

""I thought as much.""

Machines hiss and beep, steady.

"I never thought—" Herc bows his head. "I never thought this would be how—"

""He's his father's son. He'll make it.""

"I don't—" Herc laughs weakly. "He's never been bald before."

""Hmm?""

"He's had hair—ginger—from the first minute. Ang—" Swallows. "His mum used t'say it was a sign he was gonna grow up t'be—" Deep breath. "—be just like me. What would she say ...."

Stacker shifts. ""She'd say you're doing your best and she'd be right beside you.""

Herc shakes his head, mumbles, "Said 's 'life-changing'. He's—" His stomach jumps and blocks his throat.

""He'll pull through, Herc.""

"He has to."

""He will."" Stacker's conviction is absolute.

"I ... I can't—" Herc wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

""You won't.""

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by Nathaniel Landau [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

Still feeling awful about what I'm doing to these poor characters, but at least I gave Herc a bit of a support system?

Chapter 5: Awake

Summary:

Chuck wakes up, to the relief of all.

Notes:

22 January 2018
hospital, Sydney metropolitan area

- Talkeetna, June 2021 — Raleigh B.-

Herc sits, twisting his wedding ring 'round and 'round his finger.

Nurse Chapman finishes her checks, pauses beside Herc's chair. "It shouldn't be much longer. You remember what to do when he does?"

"Press the button."

Chapman smiles, pats Herc's shoulder, pads out.

Herc sighs, shifts his attention back to Chuck: pale, fragile-looking, and still motionless, but for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The heart monitor beeps, steady.

Tones from the somewhere on the ward.

The heart monitor beeps, steady.

Shoes squeak in the hallway.

The heart monitor beeps, steady.

Chuck's eyelids twitch.

Herc eases to his feet.

Chuck's eyes flutter open.

Herc thumbs the call button, drops it, shuffles to bedside, croaks, "Hey, Chuck."

Chuck's eyes pan around the room, searching—

Herc waves a hand.

—tracks the motion, finds Herc's face, then a slow blink and a query.

"You're in hospital. In the city."

A slow blink and the query deepens.

"There—" Herc steels himself. "There was a bad accident and you were really messed up. The 'Dome medics couldn't handle it."

Chuck twitches his hand; his eyes go panicky.

"You're drugged up."

He relaxes; so does Herc.

Doctor Sticht and Chapman creep in, poke and prod, shine lights in Chuck's eyes.

Herc squeezes Chuck's hand.

A twitch in reply.

Herc's eyes prick.

Sticht says stuff, leaves with Chapman.

Chuck blinks, barely gets his eyes open again.

"Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

The tiniest bit of a frown, but Chuck blinks and lets his eyes stay closed.

Herc hovers a moment, then retreats to his chair, wipes his eyes on the back of his hand. He takes a deep breath, digs out his mobile, sends the message.

h_hansen: He woke up

The replies are instantaneous.

mako!: \(-ㅂ-)/

sing/tell_nguyen: !!!

HdC: Thk gd

s_hansen: ε-(´・｀) ﾌ

debra_h-h: Thank goodness

pentecost: How is he?

Herc swallows.

h_hansen: Straight bcak to sleep

pentecost: Nt surprising.

h_hansen: He cant move

pentecost: ...

h_hansen: They warned me but

pentecost: The doctors said?

h_hansen: Didnt listen

pentecost: Herc ...

Anger bubbles up in his chest.

h_hansen: He was awke!

h_hansen: Focused on him!

h_hansen: Talk to them later

pentecost: I'm sorry.

pentecost: Didn't shift from 'marshal' to 'father' there.

Herc huffs, lets his shoulders drop.

pentecost: I would've done the same in your boots.

Herc bows his head, sucks a deep breath through his nose.

h_hansen: What if he stays like this

pentecost: Then he'll adjust.

h_hansen: All he's wanted t do is fight

pentecost: From experience, there are ways to fight other than as a pilot.

h_hansen: Not sure he'll feel tht way

pentecost: He'll learn to if he has to.

Herc sighs, glances up.

Chuck sleeps, pale, fragile-looking, and motionless but for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Herc slides the mobile in a pocket, watches Chuck sleep.

Notes:

Photo by Jenny Pansing [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

Two of the folks contacting Herc need a little extra explanation. 'debra_h-h' is Debra Hansen-Hanlon, a somewhat distant cousin of Herc who is the nearest family relation they have. She and her family live in London. 'sing/tell_nguyen' is Chantell Nguyen, administrative assistant to (and daughter of) the Sydney Shatterdome's marshal.

Chapter 6: Visiting Hours

Summary:

A move from the ICU means visitors, gifts, and news for Chuck.

Notes:

25 - 27 January 2018
hospital, Sydney metropolitan area

- Anchorage, July 2024 — Raleigh B. -

Chuck claws his way out of sleep.

"'mornin'," greets the Old Man.

Chuck blinks away some of the blurriness, scans the space, notes the bright square that's probably a window, queries the looming Old Man.

"'s a new room, regular ward." What might be a smile. "Folks're lining up to visit."

Max?

"The Marshal and Chantell're outside if you're ready?"

Max?

A frustrating pause.

"Oh! We can't bring Max in, but Henry volunteered to set up a video-call if you want."

Please?

"I'll talk to him right away." Another maybe-smile. "Mind if I let the Marshal in?"

Whatever.

"Be right back."

Chuck lets his eyes slide shut.

Something nudges Chuck out of sleep.

He blinks away some of the blurriness, scans the space, notes the dark square that's probably a window.

"Evenin', young man," says a pale blob with Henry's voice.

Wasn't it ...?

Henry might smile. "Awake twice in eight hours. You're almost back to normal."

Oh.

"Or maybe you're sick of hearing me talk."

Whatever.

"If you are, there's good reason, babbling ancient history at you like I am."

Chuck blinks, barely gets his eyes back open.

"Don't fight it. There's plenty of time to be awake later. I promise not to eat the mountain of TimTams Telly brought—or let anyone else at them, either."

TimTams?

Henry laughs a little. "No, you can't have any right now. You need to get your strength up some more first."

Please? One?

"Go back to sleep, kiddo. They'll be ready when you are."

Chuck huffs, let his eyes fall shut.

Something twitches Chuck out of sleep.

"Hey, Chu—there," says ....

Like the Old Man, but ... not.

Chuck blinks away most of the blurriness, scans the space, notes the yellowish light through the square window, queries blob beside the bed.

"You were starting to worry us again, sleeping for almost a full day."

Who?

"I had to throw your dad out so he could get some lunch 'fore he fainted."

Scott.

"Would'ye believe the press is actually snooping 'round for you? 'parently you've got honest-to-God groupies already."

Whatever.

Scott sighs. "You'll appreciate that someday, kid."

Chuck rolls his eyes behind his lids.

Something ... somethings Chuck out of sleep.

A surprised noise.

Chuck blinks away most of the blurriness, scans the space, notes the darkness outside the window.

"'ey, Chuckles," mumbles a blob in gold and black.

Chuck's nape prickles.

Blob shifts. "So ... Jamie, uh, told us dogs aren't allowed, so, ummm ...."

Something soft, kinda warm nestles into his armpit.

"That looks more like you." There's a laugh in the voice.

Who?

"Maybe call it 'Maxine' so you don't have to remember another name, ay?" The laugh gets bigger. "Be a little easier on you?"

Chuck bristles.

"Well, you get better soon. It's not the same without you around, ay?"

Chuck growls.

"Easy, Chuckles. I'm not gonna try anything. 'm not Logan and gonna kick a guy when he's down."

Chuck lets his eyes close.

Something jostles Chuck from sleep.

"I'm sorry, Victor," says a feminine voice.

Who?

Chuck blinks away the blurriness, scans the space, notes the bright light through the window, queries.

"Just getting things ready for your trip to Anchorage," says a gray-haired person in hospital green.

Where?

"Doctor Lightcap'll be taking over your treatment."

Chuck shivers.

"You need another blanket, sweetheart?"

No, but—

Slightly more weight all over Chuck.

"There you go, sweetie."

But—

"Your dad will be back in a moment, he needed to stretch his legs a bit."

But—

Something squeezes his foot.

Nurse leaves.

Why?

Chuck blinks away the start of tears.

Something eases Chuck from sleep.

"'ey, Ducky," greets—

Copilot!

Chuck blinks away the blurriness, scans the space, notes the bright gray light through the window.

She locks eyes with him.

Chuck's heart trips; he smells blood.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you—"

Chuck's eyes slide closed, he forces them back open over the grit.

"—that you had a stroke after the test."

Chuck's breath rasps loudly in his ears.

"About twenty percent of your brain is dead, which's why you're going to Lightcap's."

Chuck's eyes prick.

"You'll need to learn to talk and move again and it's going to take months, maybe years."

Warm, dry brushes his hand.

"I'm fine."

Chuck's chest aches.

"Get some more sleep, Ducky."

She moves away.

""You'll need it if you want to jockey.""

Chuck clamps his eyes shut on hot, angry tears.

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by Howard Dickins [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

So ... yeah. I just pretty much crushed a 14-year-old's dreams. I am a horrible person.

Chapter 7: Victor

Summary:

Chuck and Herc take up residence in Caitlin Lightcap's Anchorage lab and are welcomed by Stacker and Mako.

Notes:

27 January 2018
DriftSci, Anchorage Shatterdome

- Kiska, November 2022 — Raleigh B. -

Mako patters along the hall to Drift Science, stepping triple time to match Sensei's long strides.

She doesn't ask him to slow down.

Nurse Tremblay closes the door of room at the back of the lab where Doctor Lightcap has been working for days. She bobs a greeting.

"Are they ready for visitors?" asks Sensei, halting.

"Doctor Lightcap is making some last checks and little Mister Martijn is still sleeping, but I'm pretty sure Ranger Hansen would welcome company." She smiles and steps aside.

Sensei acknowledges, knocks on the door, and opens it.

Doctor Lightcap, Ranger Hansen—

Mako slinks to the bed.

Doctor Lightcap hums rather tunelessly.

""Ranger.""

A stuffed bulldog nestles against the person lying there's side and Mako smiles, pats its head.

""Marshal.""

Mako studies the sleeping person.

""How was your trip?""

IV lines and monitors attached to their arms and hands and chest.

""Long. Coulda done with the turbulence.""

Sensei snorts.

Freckles bold on the pale skin over their nose.

""Data~!"" sings Doctor Lightcap.

The door opens, closes.

""That's Caitlin,"" sighs Sensei.

Ranger Hansen grunts.

""How's he doing?""

A fuzz of reddish hair on their head.

""Not in front of him,"" mumbles Ranger Hansen. ""I know he's asleep, but.""

""Mako?""

She turns. "Yes, Sensei?"

"The Ranger and I are going to step outside for a few moments."

Mako nods, turns back to the sleeping person.

The door opens, closes.

She searches his face, finds nothing but sleep. With a sigh, she drags the visitor's chair over—bumps the side of the bed, rattling it.

Mako cringes.

The person's eyes flutter open, blink rapidly.

"Chuck?" croaks Mako.

Blue eyes wander, find her face, but don't quite focus.

"Is that really you?"

He blinks again, slowly, flicks his eyes to his hand.

Mako takes it in hers.

"Chuck?"

A tiny squeeze.

Mako bites down tears. "I'm so sorry."

Slightly stronger squeeze.

"You-you've lost weight."

A flinch which might be a shrug.

"You look so different—"

Chuck blinks slowly.

"—and Sensei says I'm supposed to call you 'Victor' while you're here."

Chuck's eyelids flutter.

"Is that who you are now? Victor?"

He squeezes her hand; his mouth twitches down.

"You're still Chuck."

He huffs.

""Mako,"" calls Sensei.

She smiles weakly at Chuck, eases her fingers loose, pats his arm. "I'll leave you to sleep." Slips around the chair. "I'll visit again soon."

Chuck might smile, does close his eyes.

With a last look over her shoulder, Mako joins Sensei and an exhausted-looking Ranger Hansen at the door.

Ranger Hansen goes in; she and Sensei go out, walk together away from Drift Science toward their quarters.

She keeps her eyes on her shoes.

「What's wrong, Mako?」

「I don't think that's Chuck.」

「What?」

「The boy in that room. He's not Chuck.」

「Mako, it is.」

She shakes her head with conviction. 「I don't know who he is, but he's not Chuck. Not really.」

Sensei steers them into an alcove. 「Why do you say that?」

「Because he would never lie that still or be so quiet or look that tired or—」

「Mako ....」 Sensei crouches to meet her gaze. 「I told you how badly he's hurt. He can't do those things right now, but he will.」

「But—」

「That boy is Chuck Ha—」

「No!」 Mako does not stamp her foot. 「His eyes! He's not—they're not like Chuck's at all! They're dull!」

「He's on medications to keep him calm and quiet so he doesn't hurt himself. When the dose's reduced, he'll be more like you remember.」

Mako chews her lip.

「Trust me.」

「I do, Sensei.」 She scuffs a shoe against the deck. 「Do you think he'll still get his Jaeger?」

「We'll have to wait and see what happens.」

「You don't think he will.」

Sensei looks away and says, 「We have to wait and see, Mako.」

Mako hears the doubt in his voice, takes a deep breath.

「You may be able to help him along.」

She brightens, queries.

Sensei smiles, straightens. 「If I understand Doctor Lightcap properly, any interaction—like talking to him or touching his hand—will help his brain repair itself.」

Mako hums, starts them walking again. 「May I visit him again tomorrow?」

「You may, if Doctor Lightcap allows it.」

「Yes, Sensei,」 says Mako, already planning which book to bring to read aloud.

Notes:

Photo by Brian Hoffman [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

This scene wasn't in my original outline but Mako insisted it happen. Who am I to say no to Mako Mori?

Chapter 8: Safe

Summary:

Chuck and Mako bond over literature; Stacker confronts Herc over his plans for the near future

Notes:

31 January 2018
Anchorage Shatterdome, Anchorage, Alaska, USA

- Carolina, Anchorage, August 2020 — Raleigh B. -

Mako says, ""Hello—""

Herc startles, attends the door.

"—Victor! Hello, Ranger Hansen."

"Hi, Mako."

She bows, turns to Chuck. "I have our book. Shall I sit beside you?"

Chuck nods.

Herc pushes to his feet. "Let me—"

Chuck glares.

Herc steps back, mumbles a 'sorry'.

Mako frowns at Chuck.

He ignores her, whacks the call button with his palm.

Herc rubs his neck, plunks back into his chair.

Mako keeps frowning; Chuck keeps ignoring.

"You rang?" laughs Nurse Levine from the door.

Herc says, "He wants—"

Chuck hisses—

Mako, grimacing, pokes him.

—thumps the mattress next to the guardrail.

"Need to make a li'l room for Miss Mako, eh?"

Chuck nods, shifts his arms away from his body.

Levine gets him by the armpits, eases him a Mako-width to the side, gently lifts and resettles his legs. "There we go! Anything else, Vic?"

Chuck shakes his head.

"You know how to find me if ye need me~!"

Chuck nods and Levine skips out.

Mako climbs onto the bed, nestles beside Chuck, helps him drape his arm around her shoulders.

Herc swallows the lump in his throat, forces his eyes to his paperback.

""Do you remember where we were?""

Chuck grunts.

Mako hums.

Herc stares at his book.

""He wins his battles by making no mistakes,"" reads Mako. ""Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated.""

Herc refocuses on the top of the page.

""Hence the skillful fighter puts himself into a position which makes defeat impossible, and does not miss the moment for defeating the enemy.""

The words squirm into the margin and hide.

""Thus it is that in war the victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat—""

Stacker intones, ""—first fights and afterwards looks for victory."" He stands at ease. "Sun Tzu. Good choice."

Mako and Chuck beam at him.

Herc hangs his head.

"Miss Mori, Mister Martijn, would you mind if I borrowed Ranger Hansen for a few moments?"

Chuck shrugs; Mako says, "It's alright."

"Thank you." Stacker bows, then looks to Herc and inclines his head toward the door. "If you would, Ranger."

Herc sets aside his book, heaves himself to his feet, plods out and over to a nearby couch, drops—

"Let's use Doctor Lightcap's office."

—straightens, trudges into the glass-fronted cubicle, swivels the visitor's hair so the door in sight, drops down. He scrubs at his face with both hands.

Stacker closes the door, pulls over the desk chair, and settles in looking at him with concern. "When did you last sleep?"

"Uh, on the flight?" Snorts. "Think the medics put something in my drink."

"Your room not comfortable?"

"'s fine. I just ... I can't sleep when I try. Nightmares."

"About?"

Herc gives him a Look.

"Of course. Should I have Medical try a repeat performance?"

Herc shrugs.

Stacker shifts. "Do you mind if Caitlin keeps me in the loop about Chuck?"

"You don't have to ask."

Stacker grunts.

Herc smothers a yawn in his shoulder.

"She's impressed with how much he's already improved."

Herc smiles to himself. "Always in a hurry, that one."

Stacker chuckles, settles back.

Herc gives a little smile, sprawls.

Shadows—probably a knot of DriftSci techs—scurry by outside.

"You should know that Command wants to issue press releases on his recovery."

"Wha?"

"A handful of very persistent reporters have started looking into the reasons no one's seen Lucky Seven in action for over a fortnight."

"Can't they just say she's in for repairs?"

"Unfortunately, the presence of so many PPDC personnel at a certain Sydney hospital didn't go unnoticed."

"Oh."

"Nguyen's people have them chasing their tails, but they can't hold them off forever."

"So Command wants to feed 'em something controlled, ay?"

Stacker grunts an affirmative. "Just a few words: an accident, private hospital, excellent prognosis—"

"Me being the devoted dad ...."

"Exactly. Give the press enough to keep them from poking too deeply."

"And put a positive spin on what happened," mutters Herc.

Stacker sighs.

"I hate Suits."

"That makes two of us."

Herc laughs weakly.

Clattering and yelps from the lab.

Stacker rolls his eyes, pushes—

Upset stops.

—eases down, says, "Mako's returning to Hong Kong on Saturday."

"She told me. Max should get outta quarantine on Monday."

"They'll both be happy about that."

Herc grunts.

"Have thought about when you'll go back to Sydney?"

"When he's ready to."

"That could take the rest of the year."

Herc hunches. "'m not leaving without him for anything but a Kaiju."

"We have jobs to do, Herc."

"Got kids to mind, too."

"You may have to leave the minding to someone else for a while."

Herc twists his wedding ring. "We're not like you an' Mako. I'm all he's got."

"There's Debra and her family."

Herc pries his hand from the metal, raises his eyes to Stacker's. "I'm not giving him up. Not now. Not when he needs me."

"This isn't giving—"

"No."

Stacker meets his gaze levelly. "Is that what's best for him or for you?"

"You ask yourself that about Mako?"

"Every day."

Herc looks away.

"What's best for her is to spend most of her time away from me and this life."

Metal under his fingers.

"I can't lose anyone else." Curls tighter into himself. "I can't."

"Moving him to Debra's is nothing like 'losing' him, Herc."

"He won't have it."

"This may change things. You have to consider whether it'd be—"

Herc snaps straight, sets his jaw. "I'm not giving him up. He's my son."

"Even though—"

"Don't."

Stacker puts up his palms, surrendering.

Herc bows his head, drags a hand down his face. "Listen, I promised his mum—last thing I—I'd keep him safe."

Stacker's hands twitch on his thighs.

"Promised her I'd come back—"

Metal under his fingers.

"—and keep him—" Herc chokes on the word.

Stacker takes—clears his throat.

Herc looks up.

"We have an audience," says Stacker, throwing a Look through the glass.

Techs—who a second before were Not. Watching—are suddenly very, very busy.

Herc cringes away, face heating.

Stacker grunts, satisfied.

Herc twists his ring.

"You have kept him safe, Herc," says Stacker gently.

Herc shakes his head. "I let them both down."

"You've always done everything you could."

"Wasn't enough." Herc takes a deep, shuddery breath. "He's—" Gestures vaguely near his head. "—and she's de—gone."

"He's recovering and she chose to stay behind."

"I still should've—"

Stacker holds up a hand.

Herc stutters to a stop.

"You need sleep."

"But—"

"You're not thinking clearly because you're exhausted."

"But—"

"Mako will keep him company until he falls asleep."

Herc—

"You know I'm right."

—slumps, nods.

"Let's wish him goodnight and get you to bed." Stacker glides to his feet.

Herc follows suit, less gracefully, trudges into Chuck's room.

Mako and Chuck—eyes already half-closed—glance up.

"I'm—" Herc yawns. "I'm gonna turn in. See you both in the morning?"

They nod.

"Goodnight, Ranger Hansen," says Mako.

Chuck bobs his head.

"Same to you." Herc sketches a wave, retreats, closes the door behind.

Stacker falls into step as Herc heads for his bunk.

"Uh, don't you have something ...?"

"It's my bedtime, as well."

Herc grunts.

"Although ... I have just enough time before AGNIS starts scolding for a nightcap in my quarters. Care to join me?" Stacker's eyes twinkle.

"I can probably stay awake for that."

"Good."

Notes:

Image cropped from a photo by Daniel Davies [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr.

Extra big thanks to artificiallifecreator for really helping me beat this chapter into acceptable shape.

Notes:

Beta on all chapters provided by artificiallifecreator, but all remaining mistakes are mine!

This particular little jaunt through alternative universes is all the fault of WeekendWriter, whose Holiday Swap call for Chaleigh fluff inspired the train of thought that's become this tale.

In case you want to find more backstory on the characters involved, this universe branches off from my main Athene Noctua Universe in between chapters 1 and 2 of this fic. All the stories in the big series set before that point happen in this universe, too. All the ones after may or may not because what happens to Chuck has ripple effects that touch just about every corner of the world.