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1. Home Life


Evelyn

"All I'm saying is it could be good for you."

Evelyn can't help but roll her eyes. She loved her sister, she truly did but Allia was a fixer. And worse than that, she was nice about it so Evelyn could never truly get mad at her.

"Weren't you the one who begged me to not reenlist." She counters, handing Allie a mug of coffee before joining her at the small kitchen table. "Besides, I like working in the Emergency Room, keeps me on my feet."

"It keeps you busy." Allie raises her brows, never one willing to back down from a fight. "Distraction after distraction isn't going to help you Lyn."

Eve clears her throat, looking away from her little sister.

"He wouldn't want this for you." She implores, placing her coffee down so she can clasp their hands together. "It's okay to move on and find a new purpose."

"I have a purpose."

"Fine then," Her sister huffs. "It's an opportunity to live life again, to experience something new and exciting. Spread your wings a little before you get tied down by work."

"It's barely been two months." She whispers, voice breaking. "We've not long laid him to rest Al."

Tears slide down her face and she desperately bites her lip in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. It's all she seems to do recently. But grief does that to you, twists you up and tears you down. Crippling agony that is rarely visible.

Allia squeezes her hands, "But he wouldn't want this for you."

"I'm not ready."

"Lyn," Her voice is stern. "Look at me."

She does. Her sister forces a wan smile.

"The two of you were broken up when he died." God she knows that. She knows. "And we both know that part of this pain is guilt and what ifs. You can't live like that."

"I still loved him."

"You can love someone and leave them, Eve." Allia pleads, all but begging her sister to move on. "And the two of you hadn't been in love for a long time. But it's okay to mourn the life you had together, you still loved him for a time even if it didn't end that way."

She clears her throat, using the coffee as a shield while she thinks. Allia gives her time, mercifully knowing not to push. It must have been agony for her. Her little sister who had once said 'I wish I could crawl into your head and just read your thoughts' in response to Eve's stubbornness.

But Allia was also right.

Noah had been the love of her life. Or she thought he was until life got real. They'd met in the army, both fresh out of university; she with her medical licence and him as an engineer. Assigned to the same warship for a few years and the rest was history.

Neither of them had seen any real action. There had been no guns or fighting for them though they had each seen enough war zones and provided aid to understand the consequences of war.

Despite being limited to the maintain and upkeep of the ship her Noah had always been one of the first off to help. They were mostly there for support, carrying medical supplies, food, clothes and whatever else they used to maintain during peacetime.

Eve had never paid much attention to the stock beyond if she had enough bandages and antibiotics to help the soldiers and locals they came across.

Then they had a chance to get out, to start that life together that they had promised one another. So they took it. The war showed no sign of stopping anytime soon and though many had expected them to reenlist the pair had needed a break. It was all they had known for too long.

Cramped bunk beds, shitty ration food, no privacy, the same clothes, hardly any down time. They'd been ground down for too long. So there they were, building a life together. The house had been hard to get but he had inherited some money when his mother passed two years prior. It covered enough to get the house and Eve's own parents had chipped in for the car.

The rest was up to them.

Playing house had been sweet. An idyllic dream that neither of them wanted to leave. For months they had been okay, happy and in love. Having the time of their lives as they painted each room, bought furniture and replaced theri non-existent garden with three potted plants.

Fake plants. Neither of them were home enough to water them in the end.

Because the bills had piled up, and the work hours got long. Until eventually they found themselves eating meals alone and occasionally leaving one in the oven to be reheated. It got too much for them. Life as a civilian was different to the bubble world they had started in when it was just them.

They just weren't a match.

He wanted to stay in every night, maybe go to the pub with his mates but beyond that there was no ambition. Eve wanted to explore, not all the time but some of it. She wanted to go to new movies, nice restaurants, go hiking every once in a while and get out of the city.

So there were arguments.

A shit load of them.

And then they had a good period. Obviously close to the end like one last hurrah. It was a lovely finale. The whole thing ended after a marathon round of hate sex and a screaming match.

The sex hadn't even been that great.

"So?" Allia nudges her foot against hers. "Have you decided?"

"What's the details of this assignment again?"

。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・

Bile burned the back of her throat and the man on her left made a disgusted sound. Thankfully the woman on her right snapped at him, her thick Southern American accent drowned out by the noise of the crowded plane.

God she hated this flight. She never normally got sick during travel, she had lived at sea for a few years for heaven's sake. It was most likely the nerves, she knew that. Eve also knew that ever since the car accident that took Noah she had avoided certain aspects of travel.

But it was a necessary evil to get to Bangkok Thailand where she was to meet this new crew of hers. It was her first time being here, she'd been posted around the world and at home but had never spent so long in such a warm climate.

Once her sickness had subsided she slowly made her way off the plane, shouldering her bag as she went. Why the hell did it weigh so much? She had certainly managed to overpack... again. She always seemed to be doing that.

Eve was absolutely a part of the 'better to be safe than sorry' crowd.

Making her way through the streets was certainly a new experience and she had a horrible feeling that she stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a miracle no one tried to rob her. Not exactly the safest way to travel as a solo female.

Oh what the hell. It's not like she hasn't had military training, taken self defence classes and had a father who wouldn't let her out of the house at 16 until she could shoot a gun. She'll be fine. She hopes.

It's dark by the time she reaches the harbour. Not a single star in sight thanks to all the light pollution. But oh what a different kind of beauty it is. Life is constantly moving here, a struggle lit up by neon signs, red blaring lights and 24/7 stores.

Workers drag crates of produce, machinery and boxes across the roads. The cars and trucks are forced to move at a snail's pace as a result. Noise and clamour echo around her, commands and orders rising above them all.

So the military is already here then.

Further ahead she can see a few military trucks pulling onto the docks, two maybe three of them with soldiers hanging out the back of them. She remembered those days. Though she was dressed in blue and not green.

She watched them unload from the truck, bags like hers slung over their shoulders. A few of them were ribbing each other, jesting and playing around despite the late night. She certainly doesn't remember that part. Eve knows she can be a bitch when tired.

These young ones seem too excited and bitter still. Well, she says young, it's really just three youngish ones, the rest are weathered soldiers. At least she isn't going with greenies.

"Mason Weaver."

Dirty blond hair, pale skin, good posture, she clearly comes from a decent middle class background. Worn boots, sensible military-casual clothes and a strong stance. Eve would guess the military but she seems too roguish and independent for that. But there's a camera around her neck and a familiarity of her environment that just screams journalist.

Evelyn's known a few of the good ones in her time. Some of the cruel idiots as well.

Evelyn slows down as she approaches the man and woman. It's clear he's surprised by Mason Weaver's presence. It's also clear he's surprised in that male way. Men can truly be incompetent at times.

"Mason Weaver... is a– woman." He says the words to himself and Eve comes to stand by Miss Weaver, sharing a bemused look with who she assumes is her new companion.

"Last time I checked." Weaver purses her lips, eyes narrowed as the man continues to stare at her with judgemental surprise.

"Evelyn Wright is also a woman." She scrunches up her face, using her best condescending tone. "And is also boarding this ship."

"I–"

Dear lord had he never had a conversation with a woman before. Weaver gives up before she does, moving past the blundering man who looks like he's never seen the outside of an office block.

"Lovely to meet you." She snipped, pushing past him and following Weaver towards the boarding platform.

"Two years in country. Where you been?" Oh she's not getting good vibes from this guy. At least she was right about the military vibes from the woman.

"Embedded with MACV-SOG"

She's got no clue what that means but it draws a dark chuckle from the man. He hunches over Weaver's papers, taking in her credentials with furrowed brows and dark eyes.

"Ah, you were in the shit." He doesn't seem to really, more begrudgingly so but Eve assumes that as a black man in the military he had to work twice as hard for respect with the dumb as shit white boys whose mama's didn't raise them right. "I respect that."

Weaver just watches him but Eve narrows her eyes. There's something more. She feels like there's a 'but' coming and it's really going to ruin the mood of this trip if he's not careful.

"But it's people like you who lost us support back home."

Oh there was an actual 'but' involved. Huh. She was expecting more subtly from this apparent leader.

Weaver looks genuinely baffled. Her face scrunches up in disbelief.

"You're not actually going to blame the people without guns for losing the war, are you?"

Evelyn likes this woman, but she's not sure this is an argument she wants to get involved with so late in the day. Or early? What time is it anyway?

"A camera, or rather a photograph," Evelyn finds herself interceding, stepping forward to hand her own papers to the man. "Of the right thing at the right time can change perspective, change minds and opinions. If you can alter enough of those you can stop a war."

She pauses, scanning the male head to toe.

"Or start one."

There's something on edge about him. Something too eager that recognises from Noah. The way he would look when the ship came into dock. When they were asking for volunteers to go out into the trenches and mud pits to find the wounded, occasionally handle the enemy.

"Huh." He scoffs at her, clearly displeased though impressed by her boldness. Arrogant leader types always go one of two ways; either they love the challenge or hate it. "You're the medic then."

She holds his gaze, not planning on backing down. Evelyn really isn't in the mood right now.

"We didn't lose the war." He turns back to Weaver, but glances back to Eve. There's a dark, wild look in his eyes. "We abandoned it."

And it's clear that he wanted to stay back and finish the job.

A/N: Guess who watched Kong: Skull Island, saw Tom Hiddleston and Brie Larson and went damn... I'm going to need to write a fanfiction about at least one of them.

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