Chapter Text
The low buzz of activity at the base is a stark contrast to the chaos of the operation they just survived. Although they returned with quite some wounded soldiers, many of them carried in on stretchers, there's hardly any moaning or groaning, and the immediate, high efficient primal care of the attending army medics means that no one has to yell any orders. Still, there's a lot going on.
Amid this triage, Cruz sits next to their Lioness, her focus solely on her. Josie's hand rests gently in hers, as it has done so for the past hour; a small comfort to the pain and exhaustion that still clings to their bodies.
Josie's face is pale and whacked, her nose most likely broken, but her eyes—those fierce brown eyes—are still sharp, still alert. Cruz knows she doesn't like to show weakness easily. Right now though, she is as vulnerable as Cruz has ever seen her.
As a medic works nearby, putting a temporary splint on her shattered leg, her breath comes in shallow, strained gasps. Cruz can't help but watch her, her grip tightening as if she can somehow pull Josie through the pain just by being there. Her mind is still reeling from the crash, the sound of the chopper spiraling out of control, the impact, the heavy firefight that followed right after. But now, in the aftermath, it's Josie's hand that grounds her.
"Hey..." Josie glances up at her, a small smile tugging at her lips, despite the pain, "You still wanna get together?" Her voice is raspy from dust and strain. "Now that I almost killed us?"
With a brief grimace crossing her face—her own ribs still sore from their rough landing—Cruz chuckles. "You kidding me?" she grins, "Do you have any idea how hot you are?" Her thumb brushes across Josie's knuckles; a simple, but reassuring touch. "Especially right now."
Josie raises an eyebrow, shakes her head and laughs softly. "Especially right now? That's a little hard to believe."
Cruz's smile widens, turning slightly mischievous. "Guess I have a thing for badass bruised and bloodstained chicks," she shrugs, her tone light, but with a glint of admiration in her eyes that she doesn't bother hiding.
Josie lets out another breathy laugh. For the first time since they've arrived at the base, her expression softens. "You're crazy," she mutters, as the faintest blush creeps up her neck.
"I'm serious," Cruz smiles, soft again, and leaning in a little. "Also, you didn't almost kill us. They did. You're the one who kept us alive."
"Yeah, on the helo, maybe," Josie sighs, averting her eyes, "But as soon as we hit the ground, it was all you."
Cruz doesn't fight her. Instead, she gives her hand another tender, patient squeeze. It's enough for Josie to look at her again. And when she does, when she meets her honest gaze, there's nothing else for a moment - no chopper crash, no mission, no danger lurking. Just the two of them, connected by something unspoken, something real.
"We make a good team," Cruz says quietly.
Despite the fear and pain they just went through, Josie nods and simply smiles in return.
For the first time in hours, as the mayhem of the day seems to fade into the background, she allows herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they are going to be okay.
Together.
... ...