Phoenix in the Light

Internal Strife

Writers Note: Hope you can forgive me for being a little late. Here's an 8.3k word chapter with lots of dialog as an apology. I input so many head cannons that I have for the boys in this chapter, little details like that are so fun to write.

TW: Jamie has a scent kink. Discussion of sexual assault. Discussion of anxiety and trauma.

Playlist: Amsterdam- Gregory Alan Isakov, Come as You Are- Nirvana, Francesca- Hozier, Softcore- The neighborhood, Right Place Wrong Time- Dr. John, Paint it Black- Rolling Stones, Hunters Moon- Ghost.

For once, I was grateful that the water from the showerhead was freezing. It ran down the slope of my spine, causing goosebumps to form all over my body, but it was deeply soothing the blisters and rash that had formed from my exposure to the poison gas. There were a multitude of them on my hands and fingers, tapering off as they went up my wrists and forearms. I didn't dare scrub them, knowing opening them would only make them sting more.

I washed gently, clearing off the sweat and grime from the last three days, patting myself dry with my washcloth. I had to cover the bathroom mirror with my bath towel, averting my eyes while I hung it on the hooks. Dressing in a camouflage pair of cargo pants and a black muscle shirt that hung a bit too loose on my body, I felt slightly normal again. I didn't put my wet hair up, voting to brush it out and let the long locks rest for a night. I could feel the swelling around my nose where I had hit the wall when I missed my last jump, and my body was simply fatigued from the onslaught of missions we had been doing recently. I wanted sleep, I wanted rest. But knew I would get none.

I made my way to the barracks tent already imagining the feeling of laying in the cot I had been assigned. Farah's base was small, and the number of female-only barracks tents dwindled to nothing, so I was forced into the tent with the rest of Task Force 141. I wasn't complaining though, it looked like we were the only ones in this tent, Laswell also took a space directly next to me in the far back corner.

Walking past Gaz and Soap who relaxed across from one another at the middle of the tent, I noticed a pristinely made cot at the very front of the tent, and Captain Price snoring in the cot directly across from it. The gravel flooring didn't help the fact I was trying to be quiet, "don't worry lass, once he's out he won't wake up unless a bomb goes off."

Gaz snickered and threw a peanut from the trail mix he was snacking on at the comatose captain before leaning back in his own cot. "You smell like flowers, Phoenix," Gaz said as I whipped my hair over my shoulder.

"It's rose oil, good for the scalp," I said, finally sitting and pulling out an MRE and a sweatshirt. Although the days were hot enough to kill in Urzikstan, the desert turned nearly hypothermic at night, and I could feel the cold on my wet hair as I slid the material over my head.

"You brought pretty rose oil on a military op?" Soap teased, I noticed that he was wearing a Guns and Roses sweatshirt of his own and I smiled, but I would never admit how much I used to worship Axl Rose to them. I would never hear the end of it.

"Maybe you should use some, Jonathan" I said, brushing my fingers through the waist-length locks, "might help you with all that dandruff you have."

"Excuse me?" Soap's mouth opened in a disbelieving grin. Gaz choked on his trail mix. "I do not have dandruff."

I looked over to Laswell who was grinning, but deeply focused on the satellite computer in her lap. "I'm sorry, that no one has had the guts to tell you yet," I teased.

"You lie," he ran his hands through his iconic fauxhawk, checking for flakes of skin. "See nothing."

"Sure," I continued, "and that's just magical snow on your sweatshirt," I said, pointing to the little white specks.