Maverick (A G.I. Joe Fanfiction)

Chapter 3 : Commander

Ahh...Oh, it just you Commander. Well, don't I look silly. -Carrath

I'm not one of those people who notice pain weather it is inflected or natural, so I tend to get self-conscious when others notice before I do. Therefore, when my stomach growled so loud it sounds like a bear, I started turning all different embarrassing shades if red when Storm turned his head and stared down at me.

"Now don't go getting those ninja panties in a twist," I ordered, trying to hide my face with my hair. "I've got granola and beef-jerky in my bag and will eat them when I get to where ever you're taking me. Just ... ignore the growls."

Even after that, each time a snarl ripped at my stomach at least two or three heads turned in my direction. I'm the nosiest person here, I thought, shaking my head as I laid a hand over my stomach to try to silence it.

The room we entered was exceedingly plain, with its whitewash walls, rectangular metal table, and three uncomfortable steel chairs. Thanks to the large one-way window taking up the majority of the left wall, I figured it was an interrogation room. The four reds entered the room, stationing themselves in each corner before Storm motioned for me to go inside and sit in the chair facing the window. Just to see what would happen, I stood in the entrance and toss me backpack onto the table's top, the table banging like a gong.

"Ha, I've got me some Jumpers," I hooted as the ninjas straighten out of their fighting stances then looked over at the window but addressed Storm Shadow. "You know I'll be keeping track, right?"

"I still have to get that box to you," he hinted, closing the door behind us. "Sit."

"Yes, sir," I sounded off, throwing in a salute for fun.

I walked over to the table, taking my own sweet time. I used the toe of my boot I kicked out the chair then crashed down into it. As I rummaged through my bag, Storm Shadow began with his questioning with, "Are you a prejudice person, Maverick?" I looked up at as if he had a third eye on his chin.

"No," I answered, pulling out a snack-baggie full of granola. "I don't judge a person until they play me in a game of Honorable Questionnaire."

"So you have nothing against Cobra Commander?"

"Duh. I haven't played the helmeted man behind the glass yet."

Storm Shadow leaned back in his seat and jarred himself as he hits the back of the chair. I thought about explaining it to him but decided to wait and eat until he asked me to. No freebies, Ninja Boy, I teased in my head. It seemed to affect him longer than my last trick because before he asked, "How can you see through the glass?" I was on my second baggie.

"You know the puzzle pictures that you have to figure out the picture behind all the junk in front?" I asked, giving him my full attention, and when he didn't shake his head I continued. "One-way glass is kind of like those for me but twice as hard. If I stare at it at the right angle and have my eyes open or close a specific way, the image becomes clearer than just the mirror reflection most people see...Next question."

That's when the door burst open and the man behind the window comes into the room. He was decked out in a helmet with a mirrored faceplate, a trench coat, black pants tucked into his boots, and leather gloves. There was not a sliver of skin showing anywhere on this man, the man known as Cobra Commander.

"Do you know you talk in your sleep?" he hissed on the s.

"Yes, people have also told me I scream my head off too but that's only during my night-terrors," I answered, keeping my eyes on Storm Shadow.

"Night-terrors?"

"I've always had them. They come and go, subtly altering themselves each time I endure one of them."

"How so?"

"Well, one night I'll be in a white nightgown, humming to myself as I gaze out a window. The next thing I know I'm forced to the ground, a pillow being pressed into my face. I wake up gasping for air. A few nights later, I am in a black gown standing by a shadowy mirror and suddenly the floor collapses underneath me. I awake, clawing my way into a seat position on my floor. And the reason they're so scary, Commander, is that they are so vivid. Each one is more like a memory than a dream."

He nodded. I noticed, as his head stilled where he and two others were looking. I felt the heavy pressure of their curious gazes against my hands. I raised my right hand and looked it over the packs of red starting in the off-centers of the back and palm of my bandages.

"Do you need anything daily for those?" Cobra Commander asked, leaning forward onto the table.

"Two bottles of alcohol, a bronze basin, a box of matches, and as much gauze and surgical tape you can get your hands on," I listed, whipping my head to the side and challenging him with my eyes.

"Storm Shadow," Commander's head turned towards the white ninja. "Take our guest to her new quarters, she'll find what she needs there." Then he righted himself and rotated his head back to me. "It was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Maverick."

"Likewise," I said, smiling slightly as he exited the room.

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