Black Hawk Down fanfiction

Gary/Randy, NC-17

Summary: The beginning. How Gary met Randy.

~*~

Between his sprained ankle, the weariness that reached all the way to his bones, being laden down with forty pounds of equipment, ammunition, and an M16 rifle strapped across his chest, Gary was more than ready to stop.

He had come as far as he wanted. He had made his fucking point.

But, as with everything else in his life, he kept right on, even when he didn’t want to.

His combat boots crunched steadily with those of the men behind him in formation. His platoon.

His heart beat hard in his chest, but he kept his expression in check. It was what was nearly paralyzing him with fear, but he did all he could not to think about it. To not think about the fact that he was the focus of all that attention. That when he opened his mouth to say anything, all those eyes would pin on him, looking, concentrating on him.

He breathed through his mouth, telling himself it was fine, it was only three days, and that this was not only the last day of his rotation as platoon leader, but of the mountain phase of Ranger School. He had made it this far, he would finish.

But his mind wouldn’t let him rest. It pressed at him constantly, making him sweat every time they looked at him, reminding him that the more they looked, the harder they concentrated, the more they would see.

Until suddenly, they would just see it.

He ran his tongue hard over his lips, pressed them firmly together, and kept right on marching through the foggy Georgian mountain trail.

He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be back at his regular army barracks, keeping a low profile, blending in. Doing nothing.

And yet he was lying to himself. He had done just that for four long years, right out of high school, turning his back on his perfect grades, on his college scholarship, to disappear into the army.

When the guys he had gone through basic training with had all gone on to try for the Ranger Regiment, he had stayed in the barracks and kept his head down.

When the ones who had made it had gone on to leadership training in Ranger School less than a year later, he had wished them well, and kept his head down.

When those guys had gone on to full promotions and stunning opportunities to challenge and make heroes of themselves, he had reluctantly accepted his promotion to staff sergeant, and then really kept his head down.

He had excelled in mediocrity until he’d woken up one morning and could no longer stand to look at himself in the mirror.

And without knowing what the fuck he was doing, he had volunteered for Ranger School. Leadership training.

And so what happened after this? Be a sergeant in the Rangers? Bigger and better challenges? For what?

It was a vicious cycle. He would have gone insane in the regular army, but he was going insane with the constant threat of exposure. And yes, he fucking knew he wasn’t the only man in the world like this, but he didn’t want to fucking do anything about it. Not in the outside world, and definitely not in the army.

He just wanted to hide.

He had wrestled with himself from the start of the Ranger course, and sometimes he wondered whether that was the purpose of it all. To make each soldier think about what his place in the world was, what his deeds in this life would amount to. What he was.

He didn’t want to think about any of that.

Gary shut his eyes for two seconds and told himself to please stop thinking. But he compromised and allowed himself two more thoughts.

He would make his way through Ranger School.

He would only think about what came after when he was done.

He let out the breath he had been holding, and returned to carefully examining the passing terrain. He noted rocks, and tree formations and clearings. He saw that they were coming to the major bend in the road that meant they were on their last stretch before Camp Merrill.

He called to his training buddy, Wex, and told him to send up the advance squads to do their routine check. They would ascertain that the hidden bend ahead was clear, and then he would take his platoon around it.

Gary limped to one side and watched the advance squads trot past, and when the last soldier cleared the bend, he gave the signal for the rest of the platoon to march on.

Later, he would thank his lucky stars that he had stayed in the front of his platoon, and not the rear, and also that he had never taken his eyes off the squad ahead.

Because as soon as he gave the signal to move on, they were ambushed.

The opposing forces soldiers were part of the Ranger Training Brigade, and were at the Camp all year round. When they ambushed trainees, they did so with maximum effect, taking great pride in destroying class after class of unsuspecting soldiers and sending them panicking into the night.

Gary saw it happening. He opened his mouth and barked as loud as he could for his men to regroup, stay close, and return fire. His men scrambled into position, and just as Gary shouted for fire, he was body slammed into the hard, gritty ground.

He grunted as the wind was completely knocked out of him, then braced himself and twisted as hard as he could onto his back. He was bigger than whoever was on his back, and he fully expected to dislodge him and make him think twice before rushing him again.

But to his shock, the man on him simply shifted and spread his knees, and Gary found himself on his back, with his arms pinned right into his side. He grunted in irritation, struggled between the powerful knees, then stopped and looked up into his assailant’s face, and got struck by lightning.

The man, between whose knees he was trapped, was perfect. But for long moments, Gary couldn’t have said what he looked like. It wasn’t the darkness of the foggy night, it wasn’t the disorientation of being slammed into the ground.

It was the immediate and total sensation of plummeting in love. Everything stopped. He couldn’t say whether everything outside him actually stopped, but everything inside him absolutely did.

He and the man sitting on top of him simply fell together. Through time, through space, reaching a destination, coming back, and never moving the entire time.

Then the man sat back slowly, settling on Gary’s stomach. He looked down, and right into Gary. He looked stunned. Gary’s heart squeezed and stayed that way, while his eyes went haywire over the man’s face. He had green eyes, a strong jaw, a furrow in his brow.

Then he pushed off Gary, stood up, and walked away.

Gary’s elbows collapsed under him and he fell flat on his back and stayed there. He just laid there, silently freaking out.

One of the Ranger Instructors appeared above him and grinned down. The RI extended his arm and gripped Gary’s forearm. As he pulled him up, he congratulated him on keeping his men together, on keeping a level head, and on earning a strong positive spot observation report as platoon leader. The RI told him that if he kept it up, he would succeed in Ranger School.

Gary just stared at him.

*****

He hadn’t hallucinated yet.

Most of the men in his squad had, one way or another. From the sickening heat and humidity, the extreme state of mental and physical exhaustion, the near starvation, the mosquitoes, the snakes, the leeches, the alligators, the disgusting, choking gunk of the Florida swamp.

But for him, all that was external and – after sixty-six days of Ranger School nightmare – bearable, paling in comparison with the all consuming, excruciating desire to see that opfor soldier again.

Gary leaned with his chest and pushed into the rubber side of the Zodiac, grunting encouragement to the other five men in his squad. They had to push the boat across the swamp to the patrol base up one of the inlets, secure it, and pull themselves onto the vile mud shore.

Then they could rest for a few minutes and take care of their leeches, scratches, cuts, sprains, and bruises. Then, and only then, could they collapse and vomit and hate their lives, and wonder what this was all for.

He didn’t look at any of his men’s eyes anymore. A squad was much smaller than a platoon, and therefore better, but he was starved, emaciated, physically damaged in several places, and soaked to his cells.

He had slipped into a mental state in which he no longer cared about or understood anything but survival.

But survival also meant not breaking down and demanding whether anyone knew the man with whom, in the middle of pure hell, he had fallen in love.

They reached their patrol base and he pushed through the waist-high swamp water and climbed onto the shore. He gripped the rubber handles at the front of the boat and hauled. All their equipment and ammo was in there, and they had to get it all ashore and make sure nothing got wet and useless.

It was their last night of Ranger School. They hadn’t slept in two days, and had only caught two hours of sleep on the nights they were allowed to sleep. It was 0300 hours in the morning, and in one hour, as their final exercise, they were going to storm Santa Rosa island across the Florida panhandle.

They had been taught everything they needed to do it, and the entire leadership training course lead up to this night.

He had already worked out his squad’s mission plan half a day before, and all that was left was a last minute perfunctory conference with the other squad leaders, and then at 0400 hours they would load into their boats and cross to the island. He knew by heart every move his squad was to make and he could go over the entire plan in his sleep, as could the other squad leaders.

But the moment they secured their boat and he was able to find a spot kneeling within the circle of mission leaders, he froze.

The opfor soldier was sitting in the circle with them, looking at him.

He shut his eyes. Maybe he had finally started hallucinating. Opfor guys worked in specific camps and forts, and if this guy was from Camp Merrill, he couldn’t also be at Eglin. He opened his eyes, but it was only worse. He was being scrutinized from head to toe. His eyes, his mouth, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his crotch…

He dropped his eyes and looked at the mud in front of his knees, pressing his fingers to his temple. He stopped himself from whining in frustration.

No one commented on his obviously distressed state, because everyone was stressed in some form or another. But he would gladly trade his form for anyone else’s.

He clenched his trembling jaw and took a deep breath, which did nothing to calm him. Still, he dropped his hand and looked up at the trainee coordinating the leaders. He didn’t look at the man across from him.

But out of the corner of his eye he could see that the man was still staring straight at him, as if he didn’t care if the entire world noticed. And Gary felt as if the entire world was noticing. They could see the way the man was looking at him, the way he was avoiding looking back. Anyone who wanted could fucking see it.

Gary crossed his arms over his chest and took short shallow breaths. His head went completely light in an awful way, and a tingling sensation ran through every inch of him.

He was going to vomit.

He struggled to his feet and managed to make it to the shoreline before losing the one MRE he had eaten that day. He bent over, placed his hands on his knees and spat, keeping his groan inside, forcing himself not to pass out no matter what.

He had been sucked dry by leeches, bitten by a snake, pursued by an alligator, crawled through miles of mud, lost nearly twenty pounds in less than a two month period. And he had survived it all.

He would survive this last effort. He would fucking focus, and he would lead his squad on the island assault.

Then he would leave the army, kidnap the man who was causing him so much fucking mental agony, and move to Holland.

He started laughing, and sounded completely crazy.

A hand settled on his back, and Gary didn’t have to look up to know whose hand it was. His heart slammed against his ribs and stopped. He didn’t move. He kept his eyes down, kept his hands on his knees, and breathed.

A tattered green army T-shirt appeared under his nose. He nodded and took it, wiping his mouth with it. His next breath filled his head with the smell of the man, and before he could catch himself, he inhaled again. He groaned and pulled the T-shirt from his face.

The hand on his back slid up and settled on his neck. Here he was, physically wrecked, his body falling apart on him, and yet as the hand moved, massaging the back of his neck, heat built up from the spot and began to spread through him.

He shook his head slowly, still bent over. Please take your hand off me. He wasn’t going to faint, for fuck’s sake. He had promised himself he would do this, and he would do it.

The hand left him, and the body next to him moved away.

He stayed there, taking deep breaths until his nausea cleared. Then he gripped the T-shirt as tightly as his weakened hand would allow and trudged back to the circle of soldiers.

He knelt once again in the circle, and saw that the man wasn’t there. He kept the T-shirt.

******

Gary sat on his bunk, staring at his simple gold and black Ranger tab. It was so small, so tiny in comparison to what he had been through to earn it. He turned it over and over in his hand, not sure what he was supposed to do next.

All he could think of was that since Florida he hadn’t seen the man whose face now filled every waking hour of his day. He knew it hadn’t all been a fucked up hallucination in the swamps.

Some of the other guys had suffered badly from such things, and a lot of them had dropped out, even after finishing Ranger School, even after climbing out of the pond marking their last swim to victory.

He understood.

This was not the regular army. This was asking everything of them. There was no hiding from here on out, there was no blending in, there was no doing nothing. He admired any man who knew himself well enough to say he couldn’t do it.

He wished he could say it as well. But he would be lying to himself, and he didn’t want to keep avoiding mirrors.

He exhaled long and deep, and stood up. Captain Hayes, who was head of the Ranger Training Battalion, had asked to see him in his office. Gary had no idea why, but he assumed it was some kind of final congratulations each Ranger was given.

He was ushered in by the soldier at the door. He stepped into the room and stopped. The opfor guy was there, standing with his legs apart and his arms crossed over his chest, staring right into him.

Gary panicked. What the fuck was he doing in the Captain’s office? Had he noticed the way Gary looked at him and reported him?

He felt his knees weaken and almost leaned against the door for support. But the guy had stared at him in the same way! Worse even!

Gary made himself take a calming breath. No matter what else his problem was, he wasn’t stupid. There was another explanation for this man’s presence in the room.

The Captain waved to him, and he walked into the room in a way that he hoped looked steady.

At this point, Gary knew that the man standing there was anything but a member of any opfor group. First of all, he was now in civilian clothing. Second, Gary could now see his hair since he wasn’t wearing a helmet – it was light brown – and it was grown out like a civilian’s, not buzzed like a Ranger’s.

And above all, he exuded enough confidence to intimidate the entire Ranger Training Brigade.

Gary stopped in front of Hayes’ desk and saluted. Then he pinned his gaze into the far wall above the Captain’s head.

“Delta wants you,” Hayes said without any preamble whatsoever.

Gary looked down slowly and stared uncomprehendingly at the Captain.

“You do know what Delta is, don’t you, Sergeant?”

He nodded slowly. “I- I’ve heard of them.”

“Well, they’re asking for you to try out in their selection process. Don’t ask me why.”

Gary stared at him, then to his consternation, felt his eyes shifting to the man standing to the side.

The man was still staring at him from under half-lidded eyes, breathing inaudibly through his slightly open mouth. He was looking at Gary as if he had never wanted to fuck anyone so badly in his life.

Gary whipped his head away.

His heart pounded hard, painfully. Had Hayes noticed? Well no, Hayes wouldn’t notice the man since he was standing behind him. But Gary was standing in front of Hayes, the focus of his attention. With every ounce of effort he could manage he kept his face expressionless. But his jaw wouldn’t stop shaking.

Hayes let out an exasperated sigh, leaned forward in his chair, and pinned him with narrowed eyes.

“Gordon,” he began slowly. “None of the RIs knew what to make of you. You didn’t seem that interested in the training course, yet your intelligence was well above average, your abilities were nothing short of impressive, so no one could really fail you, could they?”

Gary swallowed, not sure what he was supposed to say. So he said, hesitantly, “Yes, sir?”

Hayes snorted at him. “You might have been a star asset to the Rangers, but we’ll never know, will we? You didn’t seem able to get your head out of your ass and come to us sooner. What the fuck were you doing dicking around in the regular army for four fucking years!”

Gary’s face flushed instantly and completely. He opened his mouth, and then immediately shut it. The look on the Captain’s face made it clear that he expected no words in reply.

“Well,” Hayes sighed, pushing the papers in front of him back into a manila folder. “Delta's welcome to give you a try. Maybe they can hold your interest long enough to see what the hell you’re made of. The Army’s giving you a couple weeks off.”

Hayes was now coming around his desk and, to Gary’s utter surprise, putting his arm around his shoulders. The Captain gently guided him toward the door.

“Rest and recover, and report to Fort Bragg at the start of October. And, Gordon…”

Gary turned and faced him, confused, frustrated, and mentally defeated.

“Good luck.”

Hayes gently pushed him out the door and shut it behind him, not even seeming to want a salute. Gary’s feet carried him away from the Captain’s door.

After everything he had been through, he wasn’t dazed. He was traumatized.

He looked down and saw that he was still clutching the Ranger tab in his left hand. He stopped and looked at it for a long time.

He had no idea what Delta might want with him. But he knew now that the man in there was Delta.

And he also knew that he didn’t have the strength not to follow him back to where ever he’d come from.

They said life was full of challenges, and at eighteen, when he had joined the army, that had seemed like a positive prospect. Now, at twenty-two, he was not so sure.

He closed his hand around the Ranger tab he had worked so hard for without knowing why at the time, and slipped it into the breast pocket of his fatigue jacket.

No matter what, in two weeks time he would report to Fort Bragg.

~*~

part 2 - Selection