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Firefly informs the checkpoint base that Storm Shadow needs immediate transport to the air field, leaning forward into the cockpit of the helicopter as it ferries them over the forest below. He hooks the radio back to the dashboard, and turns, looking to the wounded man lying on the cabin floor. The Commander sits cross legged beside him, a medical kit at his hip. He has a syringe raised up near his mask, flicking the side with his finger and emptying it of air.
“You know what you’re doing there?”
The Commander doesn’t spare a glance upwards, snorting and rolling Storm Shadow onto his back, ignoring the other man’s sudden cry of pain. The injection was quick, Firefly barely caught the needle go in and plunger go down. It must have done its job; Storm Shadow quickly quieted down and could’ve been easily mistaken for asleep. He might actually have been after all the morphine.
The Commander leans back against the flat wall behind him and begins to dispose of the needle in a sharps container. Firefly can’t help but grin; his leader’s always been a stickler for procedure when it comes to the little things. He steps over Storm Shadow and kneels down beside the other, assisting him in removing the more constraining straps on the cryo-suit. The Commander gives him a grunt of acknowledgement, going still instead of trying to fumble with the suit any further.
He’s tired and Firefly can tell, being in that prison for so long has left his muscles weak. His shoulders aren’t high and tight, and he’s leaning his head back against the cabin wall. Actions that he would never let his men see were there any around to witness. But Firefly doesn’t count; the Commander knew his lapse in good posture would never be spoken of. Besides, the heavy portion of the cryo-suit that Firefly is removing is enough to make anyone winded after running around in it.
Underneath the outer cryo-suit is a thinner white skin suit that Firefly leaves on, it’s cold enough as it is, but the Commander was itching to get out of the suit and he can’t blame him. The Commander leans to the side, making sure that the chopper pilot has his headset on, ears covered. With that confirmed, the smaller man gives a long sigh, leaning back and resting after some self-granted permission.
“Take it easy now,” Firefly says as he takes the Commander’s right arm in his hands, lifting it and examining the scarred skin. Patches of smooth scar tissue sat along his flesh like fungus that had grown from the seared arm. “Wouldn’t want you keeling over soon as getting you back.”
“Something interesting on there?” The Commander asked, looking in Firefly’s direction. Firefly smiled, dropping his arm, the limb falling back against the Commander’s body with a smack.
“Just making sure everything’s in proper order that’s all.”
The Commander huffed, and Firefly could practically feel him succumbing to a minor insult.
“I assure you it is.” he responded with an audible sneer. “I don’t need you prodding me. Do something useful!”
Firefly pretended to look hurt. “Making sure my Commander is alright isn’t useful? What kind of a good Cobra would I be if I neglected the most important aspect of our organization?”
“My organization.”
Firefly kept his eyes on the reflective mask, giving the Commander a cocksure smile he knew he could get away with. He knew the Commander would tolerate him far beyond any of the others, bordering on explicit favoritism. Firefly had always been the Commander’s favorite. From their very first meeting the Commander had been partial to the demolitions expert. More partial to him than any of the others by far.
The Commander stared at that grin and grunted, relenting. He was too tired to care about Firefly’s poking and prodding at him. He knew it was born out of Firefly’s own fascination with his choice of profession, to sit beside an actual victim and feel their scars. He guessed perhaps that what why Firefly took to his company so easily, because he was linked to the man’s own obsessions. The Commander knew that wasn't the entire case, but he didn't want to deal with the emotional baggage of having someone hold affection for him.
Firefly went back to his examination, feeling up the Commander’s arm, then his chest, feeling his labored breaths. Even with the respirator helping to force air down and then allow it to exhale without issue, it was a struggle. The Commander sat still, allowing Firefly to keep a hand on his chest, in the very center, the operative staring off as he concentrated on the rise and fall.
Cobra had medical personnel but when none were present it was the Commander that took up that role in a crisis. If it were just him, Firefly, Storm Shadow and Zartan, out of the four he was the one with the most experience. It was not born out of compassion – if his men were injured, they weren’t there to keep him safe. By helping them he was helping himself. It was a relief to actually be taken care of though, and most of all by someone he actually trusted.
He knew he couldn’t function as he did on a day to day basis without routine check-ups and care, as mundane and banal as they sometimes seemed. Even in the prison he had been subject to a weekly exam, the routine of being removed from the tank and having his breathing checked and blood pressure taken were a joy compared to the rest of the time he spent there in complete paralysis.
That care did not come with Firefly’s talk or occasional rant about Zartan or Storm Shadow which the Commander found most amusing. He did enjoy listening to talk that wasn’t reports or Zartan’s never ending river of complaints. Firefly knew this and that’s why he began to mutter on about Storm Shadow and why couldn’t a ninja dive in the right direction and all this and that.
The Commander listened, Firefly shifting to feel along his back for any injuries he might have at all sustained and not noticed. In addition to the nerve damage sustained by the burns, the paralysis inducer was a powerful drug, and while walking and controlling himself was regained easily enough – he still felt like he wasn’t wearing his own skin.
“I think you shall live to command another day, Commander.” Firefly announced, sitting down beside him, quick examination finished.
“Hmm.”
“I got your uniform waiting at the drop point, all pressed and ironed and nice looking.” Firefly drawled as he glanced out of the cabin door, towards a distant flicker of light on the horizon. “Did it myself you know, none of the guys know how an iron works.” The Commander gives the smallest of chuckles, and Firefly’s grin splits from ear to ear.
The rest of the ride is silent save for an occasional twitch by Storm Shadow as he lay knocked out on the floor. The checkpoint was an old Soviet station long abandoned, and a separate chopper was waiting there to ferry Storm Shadow away to the airstrip. As soon as they land, Firefly is out and directing the ground crew to haul the ninja out and to his connecting flight. Soon enough Storm Shadow is away, the other chopper lifting up and banking to the right, taking its precious cargo one step closer to recovery.
Once it’s out of sight, Firefly turns and watches the Commander slink out of the other helicopter. Firefly places an arm on the smaller man’s back, leading him toward the base door and then underground. The regiment to guard the Commander during his temporary stay was going to be arriving soon; they were supposed to be there already but something had gotten them caught up. The organization hadn’t been the same since the Commander was imprisoned, and Firefly could feel him fuming when he saw there were no troops there.
“This is unacceptable.” He hissed, turning to face Firefly as he was lead down the hallway. Firefly prepared himself for the beat down he was about to receive, opening the door to the Commander’s temporary chambers. The cement walls had a strange sheen to them that made them appear constantly wet, and the mattress in the corner was the one and only piece of furniture. A urinal was in the corner, and the Commander let out an annoyed hiss in Firefly’s direction. He took it in strides however, and walked ahead, picking up the neatly folded set of clothes, offering them to the other.
The Commander stared at the clothes, quickly snatching them away and moving aside, giving Firefly his indication to leave. The larger man did so briskly, closing the door behind him. He waited with arms crossed, releasing a few of his nano-flies to buzz around him and keep him company. Firefly had been his old Joe codename, but the Commander had taken it literally and had the engineering division work on the nano-flies. The Commander took codenames and symbolism very seriously – obviously – but Firefly had no complaints. How could he possibly complain with such a unique method of blowing people up?
The door opened, and the Commander was back in his favored attire. The mask would need a backing to act as a helmet but that could come later – right now Firefly could tell that the Commander was temporarily pleased that he was out of the cryo-suit. Temporarily was the key word; as soon as the Commander let his small happiness run its course he pointed to the floor and Firefly obeyed, walking in and shutting the door behind.
“Why are there no troops here!?” he shouted, fists clenched as he leaned forward slightly. Firefly’s eyes shifted to the side then back towards the reflective mask.
“The guys haven’t been as quick without you around. They’re getting lazy.”
“Unacceptable!”
“I won’t argue with you there, sir. Now that you’re back they’ll get the fear back in ‘em.”
“It should have been there in the first place! I’m gone for a few months and they decide to get sloppy!” The Commander turned, kicking the mattress. “How is this organization supposed to stay afloat if they can’t manage without me for an extended period of time? Do they need constant threats, or some display of corporal punishment?”
“It worked the last time you did it.”
“That’s not my point, Firefly!” the Commander snapped in response, raising his voice further. “You are supposed to keep things running when I’m not around; I need to be able to rely on you. And what now, what if I’m imprisoned again? I have no doubts in Zeus however one can never be too prepared. You know you’re the only one I can trust, and yet you’ve let the organization get below acceptable performance levels! What do you expect me to do – who should I trust if I can’t rely on you? Zartan?!”
The Commander paused after that, bringing a hand up to his throat. The sound of his wheezing became audible and Firefly quickly moved to grab his arm, pulling the Commander down to sit.
“Now look what you gone and done.” Firefly chuckled, although this was to hide his nervousness. If the Commander was in trouble he wouldn’t know what to do, other than simple rescue breathing or CPR than any grunt knew.
“Just sit down and stop being angry at me for five minutes. You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you haven’t already.”
The Commander took in long, deep breaths, struggling to force the air down. He clenched his fists once more, angry at this permanent, handicapped state he was now going to have to endure for the rest of his life. Firefly knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his back and pushing up slightly to help support him. The Commander concentrated on drawing in long breaths of air, Firefly watching his chest rise and fall. The respirator made a whistling sound as too much air was drawn through it, but the Commander was able to force enough in to keep from getting too lightheaded.
“Always happens when you go and get yourself riled up. Thought you would’ve learned better by now.” Firefly reprimanded in his small way, shifting and helping the smaller man lay on the mattress. He rolled up the discarded cryo-suit and pulled the Commander’s head up carefully, using the suit as a makeshift pillow. “Now lay there and quit worrying so much. You’re gonna give yourself something to worry about, and that’s a fact. Zartan’s behaving himself and the Zeus project is on schedule. A couple of late troops ain’t the end of Cobra, Commander.”
The supine man craned his head back, shooting Firefly an unseen glare. The large man just returned the invisible look with a crooked smile and got an annoyed scoff in return. He settled against the wall beside the head of the mattress, crossing his arms and listening to the sounds of his commander breathing. Firefly hoped that the troops would be a little later in arriving, it wasn’t often he got to be alone with the Commander, and right now he knew the other needed it.