Chapter Text
Cowan, a small township outside of Muncie, IN, felt like foreign territory now.
Jane had only been back two days, but it just felt wrong being here again. Invasive, especially now that he was leaving it. Trespassing on the past, only to immediately leave it again for dustier pastures. Some place in New Mexico, sure as hell'l be a long drive. The soldier tilted his helmet up slightly, getting a final look at the homestead before tossing his meager pack of belongings in the Jeep's rear. "Could be the last time I see the place," Jane thought aloud. It was a good thing though, this means growth, right? Leaving your bad stuff behind? He couldn't find the answer to that self-imposed question, instead hopping in the door-less front and turning the key, smiling just a bit.
It took until nearly reaching St. Louis for Jane to realize he'd never turned the radio on. Nearly five hours with nothing but silence and his own mind. It was nice then, but realizing the silence made it all the louder. Just the sound of motors churning and rubber burning, hot against newly laid asphalt. Open doors was a good decision. Sweat on his brow, he steadied on, turning the knob to on after all this time. An advertisement for some detergent company based out of the city he trundled towards. Sound filled a gap he didn't know was there, easing his mind slightly. Coming back into focus on the road ahead, he looked at his left hand, white-knuckling the steering wheel, his other matching just the same. Jesus, he was more stressed than he realized. What was he thinking about beforehand that could have him like this...?
He couldn't remember.
It'd been like this for a while now, as long as he could remember really. Not much to dwell on though, at least whatever he'd forgotten was a bad thing. He wiped his eye without really thinking why, and kept his hands steady on the wheel.
Tuning out the music after just a few minutes, he retreated back into his mind palace and began to zone out, simply following the roads ahead of him based on the instructions he'd been given. Small towns were passed through with no mind paid other than reading an occasional sign. Small towns like this brought comfort, especially knowing where he's going. Sure it may be near a little settlement, he'd mostly just be with his new crew, people he'd not even gotten the names of, just their occupations and a few key bits of intel. Why would they need an engineer? Shouldn't all the things we need be designed already? Is he just a repair guy? Whatever the case, just outright calling one of them 'The Spy' made him laugh to himself a little. 'Suppose he's just the spy for our team. It'll be exciting to think about how he could possibly disguise himself against what is supposedly another very small team. I'm sure R.E.D. knows what they're doing, but it's impossible to see it as anything other than a little bit funny.
The sun began to falter behind him now, hands tapping on the wheel as he listened about pretending to be a cowboy, city streetlights buzzing in a warm glow around him as he trundled through. His gas had to be near empty once more, his mind tuning in and out of the music as he searched for a pump station. Out of nowhere a lyric struck a cord. It went something like "I went from cowboys to girls, and you went from (Baby dolls to boys)," causing him to brake and shoot forward due to his lack of seat-belt, helmet clacking hard against the glass and tumbling off. After a look of shock pointed down towards his feet, he turned his head up to notice a small spiderweb of cracking in the windshield. He wasn't angry, just tense as he put his helmet back on, a honk from behind reminding him he was in the middle of the street. He quickly found a gas station and pulled in, hair on his arms standing up dark and tall.
He dropped out of the car, shaky-footed and riled up from the incident. What had even happened? He wasn't a sleeper agent, he was a soldier! Steadfast and able to take a little verbal trigger! He sighed, dusting his hands on his wife-beater, shaking them out afterwards as if they were wet.
A station attendant sidled up to him, a shorter stick-thin man in company duds. "How much you want sir?" Startled, Jane jolted and immediately assumed a position of posture and strength. One he used to recenter himself. "Fill 'er up, boy." His voice faltered slightly, having not talked through the majority of the day unless it was to himself. The attendant didn't seem to mind. As he went and did his work, Jane sat by leaning against the side of the Jeep and looking up at the sky, lilac and scarlet as it set in the East. Had to be nearly 19:00 by now. He tapped his fingers to the beat of the drum on a song playing in the station, causing a nice warble sound to his ears. After what to him felt like seconds but was likely a few minutes, the attendant called to Jane for payment, breaking him of his music-induced trance.
After searching for a bit of grub and sating the hungering beast within (his low blood sugar), he made his way to a truck stop not far outside of town. Sure as hell cheaper than a hotel, plus the stars aren't bad to look at either.
Jane sat on the hardtop roof of his Jeep, blanket set and doggy bag open, the scent of greasy cheap eats wafting through the warm evening wind. At peace after a the many bouts of panic throughout the day. He'd not even made it halfway, but he was heading over early anyways. Can't disappoint everyone before they're even acquainted.
After stuffing his face thoroughly, he laid back against the thin metal roof, falsa blanket sitting rough against his hairy arms. Looking up at the stars, looking for constellations that he wouldn’t know were there. It didn’t matter, they were still gorgeous to him. The simple lighting of a cigarette, deep inhale and exhale continued to ease him down for the night.
Slowly but surely, he felt himself getting drowsier and a bit chillier, wrapping himself in the blanket and moving his helmet to cover his eyes to try and block out the truck stop’s lights.
He woke with a start at dawn, shifting clouds above him, the sun rising bright just between the brim of his helmet. It stung to start, but he grew to appreciate it fast. Coming out from under the blanket, he rummaged through his stuff to check if everything was still there, shovel and all. He took his toiletries to the communal restroom and brushing his teeth, showering, changing into his given uniform in the hopes of arriving at the base by today.
Popping into the joined diner, patrons were scarce but present. Mostly the affair you’d expect, gruff men like himself, all keeping to themselves. He sat himself up at the bar, a server regarding him mouthing the word ‘coffee?’, Jane nodding in agreement.
After a cup of decidedly weak coffee and a warm buttermilk donut, he sauntered his way out back to the Jeep. 06:53. A bit later than he’d like, but he should still make it by supper. By the time he was back in the driver’s seat, he was back to tapping at the steering wheel, pulling out of the lot and barely remembering to turn on the radio before he would probably drive silent for nearly another day more. To his surprise, there was neither music nor advertisements to be heard. Only an unfamiliar voice.
“Hello? Hellloooo? Anybody there?”
The voice sounded soft but masculine. Definitely some kind of southern accent. At that same moment, Jane remembered the microphones R.E.D. had installed in the vehicles they planned on taking to the fort, quickly shuffling through the glovebox and unraveling the unopened device hardwired into the vehicle.
“Soldier here. Is something the matter?” He tried to sound firm and stern, but was genuinely a bit worried for whoever was on the other end. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Howdy, I’m Dell, the engineer for Reliable Excavation Demolition. Pleasure to meet you, even if it’s like this.” The immediate giving out of names felt odd for their line of work, but I suppose he was just an engineer. No real titles there. My truck barely made its way out of my home shop, and I don’t think I’ll have the parts to repair it before tomorrow when we’re supposed to arrive. You think you could swing by and pick me up?”
Now normally this would be where Jane would decline, wish him the best of luck and carry on, but a thought struck him before he could respond. It had been well over 3 days since he’d had proper conversation with someone other than a transaction. Hell, the wait staff at the dinner didn’t even speak to him, just mouthing words as to not upset the early-risers with too much noise.
“Where are ya coming from, Dell?” he responded, trying to multitask the handling of the mic while driving wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.
”A small town outside of Austin, ‘s called Bee Cave. Should still be on the way, just brings you down south a bit early.” Despite what he had just been thinking about, he sounded a bit talkative. Maybe he was just starved for conversation too. “It’s cool if you can’t, I’d just prefer not to be late is all.”
“No, no it’s fine! I wouldn’t mind the coming down that way, it’s not too different from the route after all.” He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit over the mic. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t reflect your regular performance on machinery, private!” Jane said it in a joking way, but also kinda meant it. At least Dell seemed to find it funny as well. “No, it shouldn’t. Sometimes some things just don’t work out, and that’s okay.”
Oddly touched, the two exchanged more exact locations and came up with Jane probably only getting there around 18:00, maybe later. Not ideal once again, may even have to spend the night. ‘Guess I won’t be getting there early now.’ he thought, but no matter. The team being all together is more important than setting a precedent.
As he got into the Highway proper, Jane had a thought strike him hard in the back of the head, one he now realized was the same he’d forgotten before. This was the first time he’d be operating on actual team and not as an outcast. A full crew of mercenaries actually working together as a unit (hopefully), something he’d never gotten the chance to have. It was beautiful. Almost better than last night’s stars. He felt himself press on the gas, determined to make it there as fast as he good, for this dream of no longer being one was a reality.
By the time he came out of Austin, the sun was still high in the sky, but nearing the light of dusk. He tore down the road at reckless speeds, weaving between long haulers and commuters, white knuckling for a newer, happier reason. Moments of chaos like this were something he valued greatly, on and off the battlefield, breaking the common comfort he’d grown just a bit to accustomed to in the years since.
He didn’t even remember to call Dell beforehand, rolling up to the workshop with a nearly empty tank and a dream.
The workshop/garage’s door was open, lights warm and glowing under the softening daylight, loud mechanical whirring and clanking coming from just outside. The aforementioned truck rested with its tailgate open, crates of supplies half-sorted-through. Amongst it all was a man on the shorter side, but my at all small. Stocky and strong, but still a bit round, wearing a dull orange hard hat and goggles, he smiled up at the now exited soldier.
”Coming in a bit hot there, eh soldier?”