Evelyn

San was a sweet girl, far too young to be embarking on a journey with the military but she was capable in her field so Evelyn respected that. Not that she understood much about the biology Miss San studied.

Apparently she had planned to be a doctor thanks to her parents' pressure. The pair had bonded over med school and residency until San got into the nitty gritty details of the biology she studied.

As an umbrella term for what she did, ecosystems. Which is apparently a massive umbrella because she studied the way plants and animals interacted with each other and their environment. Such as how changing the temperature in a certain system would alter their behaviour, or if over time that would kill off certain species, force new bonds between them or create new evolutions.

Some of that stuff was theoretical, others weren't.

Weaver seemed lost in the conversation and Evelyn found herself whispering simplified explanations in the woman's ear whenever San got into a particularly heated rant and wouldn't notice their whispering.

"What's your story then?" San asks with a joyful smile, she's so excited and keen to see the world. "They said you were a navy medic before all this."

Eve straightened up, feeling Weaver's attention fall upon her. She clears her throat to buy a second of time, time she uses to compose herself and drift away from the issue at hand.

"Grew up in a small town, family owned a ranch and we were fortunate enough to be on the successful side of things." Her lips twitch at the though of her home, of the ranch her brother inherited and her sister ran from. "It was always my little brother's passion to take over from Pa and none of us contradicted him. My sister, Allia, hated it."

A chuckle slips past her lips. "She was not a country gal and left for the city the second she could. Saved up, worked hard and passed the Bar exam. Built a name for herself now, she working at some hot shot law firm."

"You didn't like the ranch either?" Weaver's brows furrow in thought. The photojournalist would probably like the ranch, the mundanity of it yet still full of life.

Eve shrugs, "Liked my family and the horses. Didn't like the people who knew everyone and everything. I wanted a fresh start and I'd always liked helping people. Allia had paved the way with Law school, she left school as soon as she could for university. I took a year out to spend on the Ranch, kind of a goodbye present."

"Pa hated it, wouldn't speak to me for months when I enlisted. The only saving grace I had was the medical degree the army put me through. A few years at home studying before I got sent into the action seemed to be enough time for him to emotionally prepare himself."

"Mine were the same." Weaver commiserates with a soft smile. "Try telling your small town bubble family you're going to travel the world. They came round once they saw the pictures."

San raises her glass in mock toast, "Hey, at least you didn't give them false hope that you were going to follow the path they laid out for you."

Eve chuckles, amused by her new friend.

"The navy was good for me. A different kind of small town but one I got used to." A sad look flutters across her face. "We were mostly assigned peace keeping tasks, we were the ones bringing aid to different troops and regions. Food, supplies, medical professionals. We'd camp out in a harbour and send our boys out to help build shelters and schools."

"Still saw some shit as well," She blinked back tears at the memories. "Dug more than a few bodies out of the rubble. Got caught in the crossfire too."

The other two fall silent. They'd seen the horrors as well, Weaver more than San but neither of them had been hands on with the injured. With the malnourished children weeping over their dead mothers. They hadn't seen that up close.

"But it was worth it," Evelyn says the words as reminder, more to herself than them. "I helped a lot of people, met some amazing ones as well."

Should she tell them?

For the first time she wants to. It's been so long since she's spoken openly about Noah. Since she's remembered the good times with people rather than just a tissue box full of tears.

"I met Noah there as well," Her lips twitch but she can't bring herself to force a smile. "We were together for 4 years. Met on the ship, flirted the whole time. We danced around each other for a good 8 months, enough time that the whole ship had a betting pool on the go."

She grins, picturing the large chalkboard one of the greenies had smuggled on board and filled with their bets.

"What day would we get together; who would ask the other out; would we try and keep it secret; when would we ask each other out."

Weaver leans back in her chair, open appreciation on her face. "They never doubted you would get together."

Eve scoffs, "I turned into a bright red tomato whenever I caught sight of him."

San giggles but Weaver rolls her eyes, amused by Eve's shyness.

"But I discovered that he apparently became horrifically clumsy around me. Which did work in his favour since that meant more opportunities for him to be patched up in the med bay."

"How sweet." San sighed, clearly loving the romance. "Did he go back home with you."

"Ooooh, yeah." She winces and Weaver narrows her eyes. "But the relationship didn't last much longer than that."

"Oh, you sounded so cute together." San sounds genuinely surprised, Eve supposes that dating someone for years only to have it crumple apart within a few months might be surprising for her. "I'm sorry you couldn't work it out."

"Don't be." Eve waves her off. "It was for the best. We were good enough for the better part of a year back home but bills, late nights and a new environment just didn't work out for us."

We went from seeing each other every few hours and evening to spending days apart. Not to mention the PTSD Noah suffered. He saw worse shit than her when he volunteered for all those missions. He should have just stayed on the ship.

"What happened to him?" Weave's voice is cold, clinical almost but there's a suspicious look in her eyes, like she expects Noah to have hurt Evelyn. Only emotionally, which is a lot harder to rationalise than getting hit. At least it is in Eve's mind.

"He died." For once Eve doesn't cry. "We'd broken up two weeks before after a drunken night of fun that led to an argument. Car crash, three months ago."

San inhales sharply but Weaver cocks her head to the side, blinking rapidly in surprise even as she scans Eve head to toe.

"So that's why I'm here." She slaps her hands against her thighs, breaking the dreary moment. "I wanted a change of pace, something different to get me moving again. No need to stay stuck in the past."

Weaver nods, raising her coffee in toast. "Amen to that."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:

The boys' laughter fills the landing pad, the morning sun only encouraging them to shed layers and mess around before the real work starts. One of them had managed to find an american football that they were tossing between themselves.

Evelyn smiled up at Weaver as she passed her, camera in hand and captured the calm moment before the storm. She photographed everything, anything that could describe what life was life like for these soldiers.

One of the soldiers – Cole – getting his hair cut, a group photo with Slivko and Mills. There were serious photos of them hauling crates, other of them cracking open beers in celebration.

Somewhere a record player was belting out tunes, maintaining the excited mood as Chapman pulled Evelyn to her feet, playfully dancing around to one of the tunes as the other soldiers cheered them on.

Eventually their fun came to an end when Chapman was called to meet with the leaders, leaving her beaming through her exhausted breaths. Eve slumps onto one of the crates, Conrad appearing beside her with a water bottle in hand.

She accepts gratefully, muttering about not having the cardio training to keep up with the Major. Which was the truth considering he had spun her around enough times to make her dizzy. Eve swears she would have collapsed a few times if hadn't skillfully dipped her back in way of a break.

"You looked like you were having fun." He drawls, leaning back against one of the crates. "I didn't know you could dance."

"Social dancing," She corrects. "I can't dance at parties or bars, certainly anything professional like ballet."

"Still," He leans forward, arms crossed over his chest as he peers at her with earnest eyes. "There was a lot of skill in those dance moves. Why do you think Chapman kept spinning you around and pulling out all the fancy stops."

Eve scoffs, rolling her eyes, "To impress his comrades I suppose."

Conrad huffs out a laugh, "True. But they were impressed by your skill to keep up with the energetic major."

Evelyn finds herself shuffling over, making room on the crate for the Tracker to sit next to her. They're arms brush together and Eve tries not to blush at the proximity. He's too sweet to her. Quick with a smile and a kind word.

"You're not joining in?" She questions, nudging his shoulder with her own. "It might be your last chance to relax for a few months."

"I'm sure there will be downtime on the island."

She raises her brows. "In a place called... Skull Island."

He winces, looking up at the sky. "Well, one can be hopeful."

She snorts in amusement. Immediately freezing and wincing at the un-lady-like noise. The Tracker just chuckles, amused by her disbelief.

"Well it's certainly not an inspiring sight." He states, clenching his jaw.

Evelyn follows his line of sight, staring out into the sea at the wall of pure storm. It was like something out of a sci-fi novel, something unreal and impossible. Clouds of black and grey mist rising higher than the clouds. Each foggy detail highlighted by the crackling lightning and torrential rain that she could see brewing ahead.

Her throat bobs nervously. It was going to be a shit flight through the storm. Especially if her travel sickness keeps up. She's been fine the past few days, accepting that this was a different ship, not one where she could see Noah around every corner.

It had been easier once she had separated now from then. Unfortunately, helicopters have just always made her sick. They were so much faster and more agile than most methods of transport. Capable of far too many manoeuvres that were designed to make her ill.

Lucky her.

"Think the excursion will go ahead." She murmurs, the storm looks so much worse than predicted. "I don't think anyone was expecting this."

Conrad sighs, tilting his head. "If Packard has anything to say about it the mission will stay on course."

"Great." She whispers and they share a nervous look. "Just the reassurance I need."

Because any Packard approved plan was bound to be risky.