//𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (Lee Christmas x Reader)

six.

The next week was a nonstop dive into undercover investigation of the Yena tribe. You were all tanned and burnt and ready for the job to be done with. You spent most nights laying awake on your cot, looking up at the ceiling and thinking over Toll's words from your first night there. With that, memories of Russia and the year-long escapade away from the team were at the forefront of your mind, begging to be thought back into life.

It was dark outside in the desert. You were sitting in the pilot's chair of the plane, long since moved into the open hangar, thinking back on life like had been your habit these last few months. You tapped listlessly on the armrest, eyes heavy with sleep and sand from your hard days work for the "global wildlife conservancy." Most nights, after working out in the sun all day, gathering intel and taking pictures and making plans, you waited out in the plane taking notes and checking equipment while the guys showered. You didn't really care for privacy, and they didn't either, but it gave you time away from them all to organize your thoughts into words and words into breaths that floated around you and dissipated into the universe when you whispered them to yourself.

"Dusty?" Barney called, climbing onto the plane.

"In here," you called back, unmoving from your spot.

"What are you up to?" He asked, poking his head into the cockpit. He noticed the photos and notes and files splayed about, but you weren't looking at any of them.

"Thinking," you said, turning your head in his direction and pulling a smile across your face. "Did a lot of work before this. Now I'm just resting."

"You can rest inside," he said, sinking into Lee's usual chair with a sigh. "In a hot shower, in your bed, in the company of other human beings."

You chuckled a bit and shrugged. "I like it out here. It's quiet, and... And it's just nice, you know? No distractions."

"Trust me, I get it," he said, looking you over. "What's been going on lately?"

You looked down at your lap and frowned. "Life was one thing until it was another."

"That's how it works usually, in my experience."

"Life was training to be a mercenary until I became one. And then it was about being one until I couldn't be one anymore. And then it was about drowning out those feelings until it was about Lee. And then it was about Lee until my dad showed up, and now I have no idea what it is."

"He just cares about you," Barney said, shifting awkwardly.

"It's not that," you said. "I'd been shot, stabbed, hurt, and all those things before Russia ever even happened. He showed up for this, though, and he hasn't really left."

"I think he just wants you to be okay."

"Then he shouldn't have raised a soldier," you snapped, your voice still soft but a bit heavier. Barney was quiet. "Sorry, I mean... This is the life I want. The life I signed up for."

"I get it, kid," Barney said, "he can't stop you from doing it and you can't stop him from checking up on you. It goes both ways."

You smirked and looked over at Barney, studying him for a long moment- his wet, messy black hair, the lines over his face that divulged his age, the bulky silver jewelry he never seemed to remove, the hints of tattoos peaking over the collar of his shirt.

"What?" He asked.

You laughed, shaking your head at him. "You are a such a damn dad, you know that?"

He raised his eyebrows and brushed you off. "Why, because I'm an old man?"

"Sure, that's the only reason," you chided, rolling your eyes as you turned your head back to the windshield. "What's the job looking like now?"