Thistle ~ Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Nine

Lucille's POV;

My heart was still pounding in my chest, body slowly becoming more stable while the water poured over my body. Heat returning to my veins after being plummeted into the sea.

I'd always expect things like this to happen, doesn't mean that when they do they don't terrify me.

I'd landed in the ocean, the water was freezing, and waited. Waited to be rescued as much as I hated that word. While I kicked my legs keeping myself afloat I wondered if Phoenix had been listening, if she'd been as worried as I'd be if it were to have been her.

Momentarily I wondered if Rooster had cared at all.

When I was given a ladder to climb up I did so as urgently as I could, blankets waiting for me as I entered the helicopter. Cyclone and Maverick waiting for me upon my return. I was told how reckless I was, how I could've killed myself. I reminded them how I was fine, had I ejected from lower down I could've hit the water too quickly, with too much force.

All the aviators had stayed, to check I was okay, hangman included, even Rooster, although he was the only one not to speak to me, just leaned against a wooden set of drawers the entire time, not even meeting my eyes.

I could see Phoenix pester him to speak to me but he didn't.

I stunk of salt and sweat and was desperate for a shower which takes me to now, showering alone at the base. The only person left, it was quite eery, all other showers were empty and yet there was a certain peace to it.

My breathing was still off, chest rising and falling quickly, heavily.

I ran my fingers through my hair washing the conditioner out. I felt it run down my back, legs, into the drain below me.

I could've died today.

I could die any day.

Not that there's anyone to mourn me.

Sure I had Ice and Sarah, although they deal with these types of deaths all the time. I had no one to actually mourn my death, to keep my wishes in mind. I'd be alone in life and in death.

I had to stop thinking like that.

I gave myself a slight shake, rubbing my hands over my head to squeeze as much water out of my hair as possible after turning the shower off. Feeling fresh and washed.

The air was cold, although after being in the sea, everything felt cold for a while.

I grabbed a white fluffy towel and wrapped it around myself, tightening it at my chest, slipping my feet into some sliders I'd had in case of boots hurting, which happened regularly. My hair fell over my right shoulder and back, dripping slightly behind me as I walked. It was dark, I hadn't turned all the lights on since getting out the shower. For obvious reasons. There was a mirror just outside the shower room into the changing room. I stood in front of it, taking myself in with a deep breath. I plastered a smile, albeit fake, across my face in attempt to avoid the thoughts going through my mind. The idea of this career, the risks it came with. Although I'd never give it up.

"What the fuck was that?" A venomous voice filled my ears. I jumped, thinking I was the only person here. My body automatically turned toward the voice. He sat, on the metal bench in front of some of the lockers, his jumpsuit unzipped halfway at the front showing a black tight tank top. His head hung low as he spoke, refusing once again to meet my eyes. He looked dishevelled.

"What the hell Rooster!" I yelled raising my arm to tighten my towel, feeling it loosen as I jumped round. "You could've gave me a heart attack" I spoke without thinking. Annoyed that he was in the female changing room.