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FREYA HAD practically molded herself to Chato's side, and when she wasn't with him, she was with Waylon. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt like she needed the comfort and security of others to make herself feel better. Freya was reminded painfully of Maya; of her sweet smile and caring nature. The warmth and comfort she radiated. Laying on the cot she had demanded be placed in Waylon's room for her, Freya sighed. Waylon glanced up from the nurse redressing his burns. While he was healing at a faster rate than the others, he still needed his rest. (And, the fact that be was much stronger than Freya be damned, she was mothering him into bedrest.)
"You see Flag yet?" He asked casually, but Freya shook her head no at his question, staring up at the white ceiling tiles. "Deadshot?" Another blank stare, another shake of her head. "Digger? Katana? Freya, come on, you gotta see them. Talk to Flag, Katana, I don't care. You can't keep shutting everyone else out. Did you know that Digger's been worried? He sent his nurse in here to ask me if you were okay. He's the one in a hospital bed, and he wants to know if you are okay." Freya frowned, sitting up on the cot, staring back at Waylon.
"He was worried?" She asked quietly, her voice wavering. Waylon nodded immediately, and the nurse next to him cleared her throat politely to catch their attention.
"Mr. Flag has been asking to see you, actually. He was also quite concerned." Freya shared a look with Waylon, who nodded encouragingly.
"Thank you, so much. I'll go see him." Quickly standing from the bed, Freya nearly tripped over her own two feet as she stumbled out of the room. She knew exactly where Rick's room was; had stood outside the door nervously several times in the past week they've been there before quickly walking away. Following the familiar path to his room, Freya steeled herself, slowly opening the door. Her eyes immediately landed on the bandage wrapped around his right forearm, covering a minor electrical burn, courtesy of Freya herself. Her stomach twisted as she stepped closer to him, the door falling shut on it's own behind her. Every muscle in her body was screaming for Freya to turn and run, to leave the room, leave them. Freya felt like a child again, under the vicious glare of her mother and on the receiving end of her anger when a heist didn't go as planned. The familiar feeling of anxiety settled on her shoulders, before Rick was the first one to speak.
"How you feeling?" He asked, staring at her like she was purposely supposed to pick up on his alternate meaning.
"You're the one in the hospital." Freya responded bluntly, remembering Waylon's words from moments earlier. "I'm good." Rick stared at her, eyebrows raised. "I swear, Rick. I'm fine. Peachy. Better than ever." The more Freya rambled, the more she realized she was really trying to convince herself.
"It's okay to be upset, Freya. Jesus, stop trying to help everyone else for once. You took down the Joker, you're a damn hero as far as I'm concerned. And, believe me, I'm not the only one. There are quite a few soldiers that would like to shake your hand right now." Freya inhaled sharply, her heart hammering away in her chest. "Get some rest. Take a breath." As if on cue, a guard entered the room, interrupting their conversation.
"Freya Yukimura, you need to come with me."
–•–•–
"I have a job for you, should you choose to accept it." Freya raised an eyebrow at Amanda Waller, leaning forward in her chair.
"You're asking a criminal, personally, to do a job? This is new." Wallers' expression didn't change, her face still stoic.
"You captured the Joker, you got first pick. Since Flag is out of commission for the time being, there's an open spot for protection detail." Waller said simply. Freya nodded, suddenly interested. "Should you choose to accept the position, you get temporary probation."
"And who would I be protecting?" Freya asked, shifting in her seat.
"Zoe Lawton. Her father is a dangerous man, and he's made some dangerous enemies. To keep Lawton docile, we keep his daughter alive. Simple as that." Waller spoke as if the entire thing was a bother, but Freya knew that she wouldn't be asking if she didn't need someone capable. Waller could easily put any mediocre soldier in charge of Zoe, no problem.
"I'll do it. Not for you, but for Floyd." Freya said, not needing to think about it. Waller nearly smiled, pleased.
"You will be shipped out immediately. Supplies and such will be delivered to the apartment you will be staying in with Zoe." Waller explained, but Freya held up a hand, making Waller pause.
"I thought Zoe lived with her mom?" She asked, andWaller chuckled lowly in response.
"Don't worry about that, Kitsune. We've got things all figured out."
–•–•–
The place was actually a large, open studio apartment. It was briefly furnished with a couch, a comfy looking chair, a small dining table, and two beds. A large television was mounted on the wall, a simple black stand below it, and there were two small dressers and a larger closet by the beds. The entire thing was undoubtedly 'decorated' by A.R.G.U.S. agents. Dropping her duffle bag onto the couch, Freya sighed. Her eyes studied the open apartment, and she couldn't help but imagine her squad spending their days happily together there.
Floyd would bring his daughter to stay on weekends, and he would make sure everything is clean and perfect for her. Harley would constantly try to redecorate between her messy cooking endeavors. Waylon would try to convince everyone that, yes, they needed blackout curtains, it needed to be as dark as possible in there. Digger would leave empty beer cans littered around the kitchen, leaving his mess for Freya to clean up. Chato would try to make things like his old home, and everyone would let him. When he put an old singed family picture up in an expensive frame no one would say anything. Rick would stand there, with his arms crossed, and pretend like he wasn't enjoying every second of it. And Freya, she would just enjoy having the people she cared about most around her. But the nightmares of coming home and finding them dying too would be too much.
Her fantasy was shattered by a solider entering the room, Zoe Lawton following in behind him. Freya took a deep breath. She would do right by Floyd, she would.
