hunnyfresh - Letters from War

He shut the door behind them, and all this mystery had Emma's stomach in knots. She took a defensive pose in the middle of the room, hands on her hips and raised eyebrow as she looked questioningly at the man. "So?"

He dug into his pocket and produced his cell phone. Emma didn't react. Made no movement that she had any idea what he was thinking about. But she knew he knew, and she had no idea how this was going to end up.

"You know, you may have record for some petty thefts, Swan, but you're pretty terrible at clearing your tracks. You didn't think me or Tamara would see the bill or anything?"

"What are you talking about, Cassidy?" The blonde evaded.

He scoffed and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. "Come off it, Ems. I know you called Maine."

"I didn't call anyone."

He advanced toward her slowly. "Really," he deadpanned. "A forty-two second call to Maine at 1:36 in the morning wasn't from you?"

"Pocket dial?" Emma guessed.

"Bullshit." In all the years she'd known the man, Neal had never taken that tone with her. He ran a hand over his head and huffed. "I'm trying to help you here, Swan. I can't do that if you keep lying to me."

She rolled her eyes and pushed past him. "I don't know what you think I need help with, but I can take care of myself."

Her hand was on the door when Neal spoke. "You're getting sloppy. Tip toeing at one in the morning to steal my phone? The tape from August was a nice touch, but I could read between the lines as soon as she came on screen and so can half the guys here. You're lucky I closed the door and stood guard."

Emma turned slowly as Neal slammed her with a pleading puppy dog look to listen.

"I'm not–" Emma tried to deny one more time, but Neal interrupted. "You're saying her name in your sleep sometimes."

Her veins chilled like ice water had been injected into them. A lump formed in her throat, and she crossed her arms over her chest in protection.

"I don't think anyone heard. That's why I've been chucking socks at you in your sleep," he explained bashfully.

"Seriously?" She squinted. "I thought you were being a jackass."

"I was being nice," he defended haughtily then smirked. "The first time."

Emma shook her head and walked further into the room, crossing the length to reach her bunk and slump down hard.

"Hey," he said following her to the opposed cot. "It's okay."

But it wasn't. She'd get dishonourably discharged, and a note like that would make her a pariah for the rest of her life. What awful thing did Corporal Swan do to get kicked out of the army? Love a woman. Oh. She swallowed hard.

"Emma," Neal said gently and ducked his head to meet Emma's gaze. "When I said you can trust me three years ago, I meant it. I'm not going to tell anyone. Just letting you know so that you can be more careful. Not everyone is as great as I am."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew it was true. She knew personally of a few homophobic officers on base and even in her division. Sometimes they wouldn't discharge you; sometimes they'd let you fend for yourself as an outed soldier.

"When did you know?" Emma asked quietly, refusing to make eye contact.

He shrugged. "Just took a wild guess."

"What?" She asked incredulously.

"I had a feeling."

"One day, your feeling's gonna get you killed."

He shrugged again. "You just look crazy happy every time you get a letter or make a call," he explained. "In case you're wondering, you have enough pictures of dudes on your wall to cover it up."

She bit her lip in worry. On one hand, it felt nice to have an ally, someone she knew she could count on to talk to about anything. On the other hand, she was paranoid everyone knew. She never took Neal to be extremely perceptive, so if he knew who else did?

"Hey," he called again, this time nudging her with his boot. "If you ever need to call again, you're welcome to use my phone."

Her lips parted in shock at the sudden generosity of the man. "Neal, that's– I can't."

"I'm in a good mood, Swan, so take the offer before it leaves the table," he said with a smug grin.

She scoffed lightly and shook her head incredulously then nodded. "Okay," she conceded. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leaned back on the bed, his hands behind his head as he continued to grin. "Now that that's out of the way, aren't you gonna ask me why I'm in such a good mood?"

Leave it to Neal to downplay her coming out secret and overshadow it with news of his own. Still, she appreciated the man even more after these past ten minutes she almost wished she had been a bit more accommodating in the friendship department sooner. "Why are you in such a good mood?" She finally asked.

Somehow his grin grew wider. "I'm gonna be a father."

"What?"

"Yeah," he laughed sitting up to face Emma again. "Tamara's a little over three months." He dug through his pocket again to pull out a small rectangular picture. An ultrasound. "She sent that to me today, and I called her right after."

"Oh my god, Neal, congratulations!" Emma was never really a hugger, but he was her friend, that much he had proven, so she leaned over and wrapped her arms around the man briefly in support. "God, you a dad."

"I know," he nodded. "Christ, I hope I don't mess it up."

She smiled fondly at him. "You'll be a great dad."

"Swan. Cassidy." Officer Watson opened the door and called for them. They stood immediately and faced him, awaiting orders. "Meeting room. Now."

They didn't wait to march out of the room and follow him into the meeting room where the rest of their unit was waiting, standing at attention and facing a Commanding Officer who stood in front of a map. As soon as she walked in, Emma knew. She was going back.

Chapter 12

Chapter Summary

Disclaimer in Chapter One.

AN: Opinions stated by particular characters throughout the chapter are not reflective of my own views. There's quite a bit of military in this chapter so any inaccuracies or mistakes are entirely my fault.

TW: warfare

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

September 30, 2004 – Baghdad, Iraq – Camp Victory

It felt hotter than Emma remembered. The air was dry and so humid she felt like she was suffocating. Her gear wasn't helping her in the slightest, heavy and constricting, weighing her down, but she was at least used to the familiar weight. This heat took some getting used to, and all it served to do was remind Emma what it was like the last time she had been here.

The twenty-four hour flight in the jet was simultaneously the shortest and longest trip of her life. The first time she had flown to Iraq for service, there had been nervousness, yes, anxiety even. But as uncertain as she had been, there was a hint of what one might call excitement. She was finally doing what she had been training for. She was going to represent her country, her people. She was going to be one of those soldiers all those songs sang about, be a hero.

But not now. Now she wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here. They could have sent her anywhere in the world, but apparently her expertise was what got her picked. If she was anyone else – Emma the traveller, Emma the criminal on the run even – anyone but Corporal Swan reporting for duty – she would have loved to visit Baghdad. The people, the culture-shock, the landscape. It was beautiful when she was able to go into the city and visit the markets. Of course, some people were wary of her especially since she was perpetually in her uniform and carried an automatic rifle, but they were good people. She'd feel the same if she had people in uniform marching down her streets acting like she was a convicted criminal. But most times, they made it work with the locals.