The Application of Fundamentals (Grace Holloway/The Brig) (original) (raw)

Title: The Application of Fundamentals
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Prompt: Grace Holloway/Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart/prison
Summary: They'll always have Peru...
Notes: Totally taking advantage of the fic amnesty here

The cell is tiny. The bunk-beds that they’re chained to take up most of the room. In the circumstances it might be expected that they would take advantage of the brief moments of privacy to rest in separate beds. They do not.

She curls tight at his side, the serge of his uniform solid and reassuring under her broken fingers. Listening to his tales of plans and schemes, talking together of a girl walking the earth and a foe they both know well dancing blindly towards his doom. They do not speak of the horrors they endure in this aerial prison, nor the dark stain that is spreading across his uniform despite her careful bandaging. His breath is growing increasing laboured and she can feel the deep burn of infection in her side and leg. The compulsive shakes come more often now, and the hand gently stroking her hair brings little respite.

She focuses on better times. Remembering secret meetings deep in the jungle, back then the Amazon rainforest was one of the few places that the Toclafane couldn’t penetrate Flora too dense for those flying monstrosities, fauna too aggressive for their human foot soldiers. Hope and spirits had been high back then, rumour came from South Africa about a lightning strike that might bring them all the answers they needed, and a girl already more than half myth was arriving with a tale to tell, and the need for a better cover story. Plans are being formed and schematics drawn up, so she steals moments away from the bustle to talk with the young woman about field medicine. The tension seems to seep away in those quiet times and they can both pretend that Martha’s an ordinary medical student preparing to go off on voluntary work with Médecins Sans Frontières. He enjoys watching Grace play teacher, much as he values her strategic thinking, he never feels he’s doing his job right if his medical officers aren’t getting to do theirs. The storyteller moves on, and the mood darkens, especially when scouts into Nauta bring back news of Japan’s fate. Soon enough they have other things on their mind, the soldiers come, with an army of flying horrors that not even the jungle can keep at bay.

She feels his hand still in her hair, coming to rescue on the grubby shoulder of her once pristine white coat.

“Cheer up, Dr Holloway, at least we’ll always have Peru.”
She knows what he’s not saying, and she’s unsure whether she wants to laugh or cry with frustration at his stubborn, old-fashioned pride. Instead she does neither, simply plays along with his transparent ploy.
“Here’s looking at you Brig.”

His laughter is quietening, chest no longer rattling and gurgling. The poisons cease to flow through her circulation, halting their steady advancement on her heart. They sleep soundly in spite of their injuries, they have a better comfort than knowing this too must pass. They know the truth. All this will never be.