บท 23: Family Ties
Nova's voice broke through his thoughts, urgent and commanding. "I'm calling the MPs and medical for the marines." Her holographic form flickered briefly as she turned to glance at the bar, her tone brisk. "Bulk, call Emma."
Bulk, still wide-eyed and visibly shaken, nodded and rushed to the phone. His hands trembled slightly as he dialed, the weight of what had just transpired still fresh in his mind. Emma—Red's younger sister—would come, just like she always did. No questions, no judgments. She'd let Joey sleep it off on her couch, even though her girlfriend hated it when he crashed there. It was almost routine now—this cycle of destruction and reluctant refuge. The alternative was bleak: Joey sleeping in an alley, or a ditch, or getting formally charged and thrown in the brig for weeks. Emma wouldn't let that happen, not when she could still help him, even if just a little.
Nova handled the MPs when they arrived, her holographic form projected with an air of cool professionalism that contrasted sharply with the chaos around her. She spoke with authority, her presence unwavering as she explained the situation. The MPs exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes drifting between the battered marines and Joey, who now sat slumped, barely conscious. Nothing would come of this—not for Joey, at least. The marines had assaulted a superior officer, and even if they hadn't, Joey was still a Ranger. Command might huff and puff, threaten disciplinary action, but they would back down. They always did. Joey's status was a shield, even now, and everyone in the room knew it.
"How does he do it?" she muttered to herself as she guided him into her car, then later into her house. Joey mumbled something incoherent as she helped him through the door, but by the time they reached the couch, he was nearly out.
Emma didn't respond immediately. She focused on Joey, guiding him gently to the couch. He collapsed onto it, his body sinking into the cushions, sleep taking him almost instantly. The tension in the room was palpable, but Joey was too far gone to notice it. Emma stood there for a moment, her eyes lingering on him as he breathed heavily, each rise and fall of his chest a reminder of just how lost he was. Finally, she turned to face Iris.
"She loved him, Iris," Emma said softly, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resolve. "My older sister, I mean. She loved them; all of her team. She saw the best in him, and I see it too. He just needs a little help right now. I know what that's like. I miss her too." She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at Iris. "The difference is... I have you."
Iris's expression softened, though a flicker of frustration remained. She shook her head, letting out a deep sigh, before stepping closer to Emma. She placed a hand on her shoulder, her voice quieter but still firm. "Just don't let him drag you down, okay? You can't carry him forever. He's got to find his own way, or he'll pull you under too."
Emma nodded, grateful for Iris's understanding. But as her gaze drifted back to Joey, lying sprawled across the couch, she felt the familiar ache of loss. He was more than just a broken man. He was a piece of her sister, a living connection to a part of her life that had been violently torn away. He had been her sister's teammate—her family—and now, in a way, he was all that was left of that bond. It was a heavy burden, but one she couldn't bring herself to let go of.
He made his way to the kitchen, opening the cabinets and pulling out a few ingredients—nothing fancy, just eggs, bread, and whatever else he could find to make a quick breakfast. It was simple, but it was something. A way to say thank you without words, a gesture he'd repeated more times than he could count. It had become a habit by now, a small ritual that made him feel a little less like a burden. He cooked quietly, the sizzling of eggs the only sound in the otherwise silent house. The familiar routine helped ground him, giving him something tangible to focus on.
Before either of them stirred, Joey was already gone. He left a neatly folded thank-you note on the counter next to the plates of breakfast, the words scrawled in his rough handwriting. He knew Iris would hate it—everything about his gesture was too nice, too thoughtful, and it made it that much harder for her to keep disliking him. It was a small act of defiance on his part, a reminder that despite everything, he still cared. He knew he was an intrusion in their lives, but this was his way of trying to soften the edges, even if only slightly.
With a quiet sigh, Joey stepped outside, the chill morning air biting at his skin. He glanced around the empty street, the world still asleep, and took a deep breath before activating his morpher. In an instant, he was gone, the familiar sensation of teleportation pulling him away. A moment later, he found himself standing in the command center.
The command center had been rebuilt in the years following Countdown, a monument to resilience and necessity, though it wasn't used much. Most of the data from before Countdown had been corrupted, making it difficult to restore the facility to its former operational status.
Now, with most telemetry routed directly to Ranger Operations, the once-bustling nerve center had become a ghost of its former self. The activity and urgency that once filled these halls had long since been replaced by silence and disuse.
He made his way to the simulator room, the door sliding open with a quiet hiss. The dim light from the monitors cast long shadows across the walls as he approached the main console, his eyes scanning the compile rate for the 'train for failure' missions. Nova had them running, and they still needed another six hours to finish. The green progress bar inched forward at a glacial pace, a stark reminder of how much time it took to prepare for scenarios that pushed them to their limits.
"Six more hours," Nova's voice echoed softly in his head, a hint of concern coloring her tone. "You might as well get some rest, Joey. There's nothing more you can do here for now."
Joey nodded absentmindedly, his body moving on autopilot as he made his way to one of the empty racks in the barracks. The room was dim, the bunks neatly made, everything in its place—a stark contrast to the disarray in his own mind. He didn't bother changing out of his clothes, too tired to care. He just lay down, the thin mattress creaking under his weight, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. The silence pressed in around him, and for a moment, he just let himself be, the weariness settling into his bones.
"I'll wake you when the scenarios are ready," Nova promised, her voice a gentle reassurance that cut through the emptiness. She remained a constant presence in his mind, the one thing that hadn't left him behind.
Joey took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The weight of the past twenty-four hours pressed down on him, heavy and unyielding. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the exhaustion that clung to him, until finally, sleep pulled him under, and he drifted into the darkness.
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