Title: The Vacation
Disclaimer: It ain't mine. The characters, the DOOM universe. None of it. Dammit. Breaking my heart.
Timeline: 2046 – 6 to 8 weeks after the destruction of the Ark
Setting: Earth
Warnings: There will be some gross scenes, I'm sure. If I have to water it here, I'll let you know privately by request where the unadulterated version is at.
Spoilers: No.
Beta: Alex-Cat
Dedication:
Author's Notes: Yes, the chapter titles are what you think they are. Kudos to those who figure it out. (Shouldn't be hard.)

Summary: John Grimm - aka Reaper - and his sister Sam are sent to a small secluded Pacific Island for an unspecified amount of time for enforced R&R while the powers that be clean up the mess that was 'The Ark' and John can come to terms with his new found 'powers' thanks to Sam injecting him with C24. They inadvertently cross paths with a field anthropologist who is quite territorial for unnamed reasons. Bottom line, John likes how she smells and that bothers him, because she smells just like the couple there on their honeymoon.

The Vacation

Prologue

Stories we could tell

AP Wire: 09/23/2046

According to a press release from the Union Aerospace Corporation, an accident took place at the Ark Facility, the evening of September 22, 2046, temporarily shutting down The Ark Operation. Casualty count is unknown. Information will be made known, as it is available.

UPI: 09/29/2046

According to an anonymous source, the reported accident that took place at the Ark Facility was not an accident at all. It was demolished by a Marine Rapid Response Tactical Squad, destroying valuable data, information, research, that rendered both Earth and Mars facilities damaged beyond repair. It is unknown if the Ark will ever be reopened.

New York Times Blurb. Section A; page 32; buried: 10/02/2046

In a press statement today, a USMC spokesman for General Grant Leestrom admitted that a RRTS in fact destroyed the Ark Transporter to Mars in an unexplained maneuver. Eighty four of eighty-five UAC personnel were killed, as were six of the seven RRTS Marines. The spokesman refused to answer questions as to why a Rapid Response Tactical Squad was sent into a peaceful Scientific Lab, populated and manned by archeologists and their children or why no bodies have been recovered…

USA Today: Section A: page 2 10/24/2046

In a press release today, UAC denied any wrong doing by any of their scientists at the Olduvai Research Facility. Any report of weapons research, human experiments were 'preposterous' and 'over-blown.' The facility, they reiterated was an archeological research facility. Questions about the repair or reestablishment of the Ark Transporter were ignored.

Blog for 'Itsa Conspiracy' 04/21/2047

I'm tellin' you, man. There is only one reason why a heavily armed RRTS of Marines would go into a facility like that: those scieRuntists either uncovered something or more than likely, one of their experiments turned on them. Probably making giant werebunnies or some shit.

Qtpie: (04/21/2047 17:41) 075 7630 3973 02

Werebunnies… hah! More like Giant Zombie bunnies or Vampire bunnies!

Ruckmefaw (04/22/2047 02:56) 210 3765 9847 45

I don't think Mars is dead at all. I think they woke something up they shouldn't have or they were experimenting on it and it turned on them. This isn't the first time there's been an accident up there. Two people were killed years ago – a husband and wife team. I've also heard the two survivors – a Marine and a Scientist – are brother and sister. Wouldn't it be fucking spectacular if the people that were killed before were their parents? And this was their revenge…

~~~...~~~

The Vacation

Chapter 01

Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

The flight was monotonous. Long, boring… John Grimm – Reaper to his friends and cohorts – didn't have a problem with long, boring or monotonous. It was just life.

But you don't have any friends or cohorts left, do you?

At that thought, he dropped his head, staring at his lap. The Ark was destroyed; all that nastiness… Sarge… Mac… Duke… all of it. His new C.O. informed him that he was overdue for some R & R and, by God, he was going to take it!

Six months! Six fucking months of enforced R & R! To start! What the hell was he supposed to do? Play nursemaid to Sam?

There was a fidgety rustling beside him. His sister, Sam, rolled over in her seat, her leg, obviously stiff and giving her fits. He still hadn't gotten the entire story out of her of exactly what happened while he was… what was he doing? Changing? Morphing? This super-human stuff was bullshit. He reached down, gently massaging where he knew, he could sense, she was stiffest. Of course, the therapist had told him as well, taught him the exercises, all of it, to help her with her rehab.

"Thanks." She opened her eyes and looked at him under tousled locks. "How much longer? Where are we going again?"

"Somewhere romantic." He leered.

She snorted and closed her eyes again.

His new C.O. had a sense of humor and 'arranged' this vacation for him and his sister. "You'll love it," he smiled. "Wife and I went there for our 25th anniversary. Out in the Pacific. Quiet, remote-"

"Sir. This is my sister I'm taking with me, not anyone important."

The man was grizzled, had seen too many battles and fights and it showed in his face. It was rumored the reason why he had a desk job now was because his missing eye created havoc with his field of depth, making even pot shots a joke. He grunted at Reaper's comment. "She's tough, your sister."

It crossed Reaper's mind to remind the man Sam was his womb-mate; she had to be tough, but he was already continuing. "I have already arranged a month. If you need more-"

"Sir?" Reaper was trying to maintain an even tone, "No disrespect but I have already had over a month off. I would like to be reassigned to a new unit and get back to work."

The major sighed and methodically straightened his stack of papers on his desk. He slowly got up and came around the desk. "Soldier, let me remind you of a few things and possibly open a few windows of your mind, small as they and it may be." With this, the man sat on the edge of the desk, his hands folded neatly in his lap. "You and your sister are the only survivors of a major catastrophic fuck up; one our government has had a horrific time keeping as under the radar as possible. This is not your average SNAFU. Your entire unit was wiped out, with you as the sole survivor and while I believe your story completely, there are higher ups-" higher ups was stressed to show how serious the situation was, "- that are having serious issues with your alibi. Also, your sister is the only survivor of an entire team of scientists and their families." He leaned forward, glaring at the younger Marine in front of him. "Ninety people dead and not a body for their families to cry and wail over. They are asking questions we can't or won't answer! We won't discuss that a multi-billion dollar facility is now rubble along with lost equipment and valuable information worth more than your replaceable ass and an irreplaceable archeological site on another planet is in ruins and impossible to excavate because you made it so!"

The commanding officer was now standing, in Reaper's face. Reaper was at full attention, staring ahead, feeling much as he had as a young, green recruit. "The Company whose information you were ordered to retrieve knows they've lost something valuable and the two of you know what it is and are responsible!" The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "Their research was funded by federal funds. The government is very unhappy because things were supposed to be retrieved and they weren't."

He stepped back and resumed in a normal voice. "The conspiracy blogs are having a field day and their readership and hits are going up exponentially! The scary thing is they are pretty much on target! I like you, Grimm, so take my advice." Heated breath blew across his face and Reaper could smell what the man had had for lunch, breakfast and could discern exactly what type of cigar he had smoked after dinner the night before, "There are people who want your head. They want your sister's pretty little cranium as well and they don't care what type of platter either one is served on. Take the R&R and stay the fuck there until I recall you. I am trying to save your pretty little ass!" The next sentence was a barely audible hiss. "It might be a month if you're lucky, which you won't be so it probably will be six or more! You are damn lucky you are still a Marine. Is that clear?"

"Sir. Yes sir." Grimm focused on the bolt that held two pieces of metal sheet together that formed the corner of the filing cabinet behind the desk. It was small and miniscule, easily missed, under normal circumstances.

But all of Reaper's senses were heightened, enhanced, and he saw things, noticed things that most people missed now.

Like the body odor of the Major barely discernable under his Old Spice cologne. And the whiff of Ivory soap, clinging to Sam.

As well as the strange, erotic aroma coming from the couple across the aisle on the plane. It was their honeymoon, they were newlyweds and the closer the plane approached their destination, the more tangy the scent became.

Reaper was aware he was the only one on the plane who could smell it. This C24 was going to be bothersome and a fucking nuisance. He wondered if there was any way to get rid of it, a vaccine or something. For not the first time, he made mental note to ask Sam, when the time was right.

Sooner than later, the pilot of the small plane instructed the six people on board to secure anything loose and pull the seats up. Sam was having a difficult time of it and scowled at her brother when he attempted to help her. "Why all the help now?"

Reaper bristled. "Don't start. Just because we chose different paths…"

"I know." She put her hand on his wrist and used it for leverage to straighten up. "Old habits." She gave him a sheepish smile. "Maybe its time to plant some new ones. I'm glad you're with me. I've really missed you." She looked out the window over the overgrown jungle island. "It's beautiful, John. I hope you thanked your commanding officer."

Yeah, right. Just wait until you hear.

Sam continued to peruse the landscape from above. "I see the little village and the beach… I've not been to the beach in years. It's gorgeous" What hackling Reaper was feeling softened. The wistfulness in his sister's voice reminded him vaguely of his mother, when she was wanting something from his father.

She usually got her wish.

"John?" Sam was patting his arm. "John?"

"Sure, what?"

She looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how much you sounded like mom trying to finagle something out of dad," he smirked.

She smacked him. "I was asking you how long are we here?" She was trying to read him, much like she had when they were younger. "A week? Two weeks?"

His smile became fixed. "Six months. To start."

"To start?" Her smile fell and her whisper was horrified.

Reaper nodded. "Yeah. To start. I'm not happy about it either, but…" He let his voice trail off.

"But-"

"We'll discuss it when we get settled, okay?"

"But-"

"When we get situated." He gave her his most fierce, 'I am a tough mother fucking Marine Special Forces Bastard and don't mess with me' look.

At that point, the plane began its descent.

~~~...~~~

There was a native waiting for them with a placard when they arrived. While Sam was out of her cast, she was still on crutches, which pissed her off. She joked her leg and hip was more pins and metal than bone but Reaper knew he hit a nerve when he called her "Darth Vader.' Thankfully, the native was patient and extremely attentive to Sam, attempting to offer his arm until he caught and withered under Reaper's scowl.

"I sorry," the man stammered in very broken English. "I only wish help to your wife."

"He's my brother." Sam corrected him tersely. They stood out on the short tarmac, watching bag after bag tossed down. Reaper recognized the tags for theirs and began to grab them, pile them up.

"John, I didn't pack this much stuff."

"No. You didn't." He shook his head at her obvious accusation.

"Then who?" He smiled at her mirthlessly. "Oh. This falls under the We Will Discuss This When We Get Settled, right?"

Reaper was now carrying the luggage to the bicycle taxi. Although he could have carried them all in one trip, he wasn't sure he wanted to bring attention to himself, so he made two trips, just to be safe. Sam took her time getting herself situated in the umbrellaed seat behind the 'driver' and Reaper could swear he could hear things pop and click as she pulled her leg up.

Again, he was overly aware of sights, sounds, colors, smells. His taste buds had gone apeshit, herbs and spices suddenly becoming explosions in his mouth, making meal times an adventure of fricking mammoth proportions. Seeing that the mountain of luggage was loaded and secured, Reaper climbed in next to his sister. "So where are you taking us?"

"To JinJin. You be here long time, you pick your house." With a lurch, the taxi took off, the driver yelling at animals ranging from dogs to pigs to people to move. Reaper leaned back, pulling his sunglasses from the top of his head, to shade his eyes. Relaxed though he looked, he was anything but. Behind the protection of the mirrored lenses, he scoped out alleys, plants, the rising forested mountains behind the little village. They intrigued him, he could sense the life teeming, hiding behind and under the canopy. He might have to explore it.

Hell. Might nothing. He would explore it. He wanted to explore a lot of things.

Like how fast he could run, how long he could keep it up. How quickly could he recuperate from an exhausting work out? He tried several times at the gym before his C.O. called him into his office and ordered him not to bring attention to himself. "Last thing we want is you tattooing a damn Superman 'S' on your chest for everyone to see! Would you like a cape to go with that, soldier?"

He was itching for a run.

And irritatingly enough, this little village was anything but small. Oh, it wasn't big, hell no, but it looked as if there were at least several hundred people there at any given time. They passed a small school, a grocery store.

Reaper wondered if he would find monkey-meat there. Or what type of exotic bird… crocodile…

He wondered if there was a brothel or somewhere where he could pick up…

He cut the thought off. He had never been one to run around before. He wasn't a virgin, he wasn't lonely, he had nothing against an occasional romp. He didn't pay for it…

Okay, he paid for the room and typically a few drinks before hand or even dinner a few times, but…

But that was another thing that was heightened. Horniness had become his closest friend. Well, fuck that!

Noooo…. Fuck THAT!

He caught a glimpse of her, in his peripheral, just as she ducked into the shop. Dark hair and a flash of green eyes. A perfect ass with legs in tight cut offs…

The taxi chose that moment to whip around the corner, Sam almost falling from her tenuous perch. Reaper grabbed her just in time.

"Hey!" Reaper's temper, normally restrained and kept under control, was loosened from its tight rein.

"Sorry! Sorry!" the driver called over his shoulder. "Dog in road!" Reaper hadn't seen a dog, but…

"It's okay, John." Sam patted him, reassuring him. "You won't let anything happen to me."

"Don't be so sure," he muttered in response. "After a month of living together in tight quarters, I just might push you under the wheels." He went back to inspecting the landscape. "Or you might push me under!"

Sam's laughter echoed off the buildings.

~~~...~~~

JinJin was a rather dapper Brit, who oozed former military and old money long gone. He reeked of French Cigarettes. His movements, along with his speech, were clipped, short and to the point. He appeared to be genuinely glad to see the Grimm twins and he exuded British gentility. Reaper rather doubted his given name was 'JinJin.'

The native stayed with the taxi while Sam graciously accepted JinJin's hospitality, sipping a dark hot tea. Her brother wondered where she learned manners from! He hadn't seen that coming! His attention was everywhere, not only keeping an eye out of the office's front window for the taxi and their belongings, but the pedestrians, the buildings, the shadows…

"John?" He snapped out of his musings to look at his sister. She had a three-ring notebook in front of her, opened up. Her finger was on a page with a picture of a rather exotic looking vacation home. "It has three bedrooms and a Jacuzzi-"

"How much?" Enforced vacation or not, someone had to pay for it and his paycheck wasn't all that.

JinJin's eyes darted back and forth between brother and sister. Somehow, this did not ease John's mind. "You are not to worry. Whatever you choose is paid for." His eyes darted back to Sam. "For however long you are to be here."

"By who?" Reaper's voice brooked no argument. His entire body was on alert, coiled taut. His C.O. was plenty nice, but he didn't think his pay was that big either!

The Brit sat back, attempting to look relaxed and being anything but. He crossed his legs and brought the delicate bone china cup to his lips. "A third party who wishes to remain anonymous."

Sam gasped and Reaper narrowed his eyes. "Start talking." He leaned forward, bowed up, with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling, ready to pounce. He motioned for Sam not to speak, something he knew he'd catch hell for afterwards. "Who?"

JinJin took his time, mostly like to calm himself. John was ready to reach over and throttle him, but the man set his teacup down gently and looked him straight in the eye. "I have no earthly idea and I do not ask. As a retired Special Ops, I have learned to keep my mouth shut." He smiled, dourly.

"As I stated, anything you need is taken care of, no questions asked and you are to be left alone until such a time when you will be notified that you are… safe… to return home. I am your liaison. The two of you are not the first here to receive extended down time and I have not lost client yet." Steel gray eyes locked into Reaper's hazel ones. "I have no intention of losing one now. This is," he nodded to Sam, "a safe haven."

He reached inside his coat pocket – John wondered how he could stand to wear it in the heat – and pulled out an envelope. He slid it across the table between the twins, nodding when John reached for it before Sam. "You have a generous monthly budget for your living expenses – food for the most part. Your home and utilities are paid for. As this island is a remote tourist spot, I would suggest you mingle little with the other tourists. Almost all stay for only a week. They will not think twice about your life. The natives are not restless. They own and run the shops here; there is a small grocery, with standard fare. The goods flight comes in on Monday morning and I would suggest you stock up on the bottled water as the water on tap is not very palatable." By this time, John had opened the envelope and was perusing the contents. One eyebrow was raised at the obvious generosity of whoever was hiding them. "There is one restaurant and a goods shop, a tourist trap. They carry fake artifacts from the jungle. Nothing on their shelves are worth the prices they charge. Of course, I do not tell the tourists that. You can also find books and magazines, typically a bit out of date. Newspapers as well. The natives are particularly fond of the New York Times and many a fight has drawn blood over the Dear Juanita column."

Sam now had her face planted in the palm of her hand. John couldn't tell if she were laughing or crying.

"This house," JinJin tapped the page Sam had been looking at, "is a nice house. It has all the standard amenities, satellite as well as a security system. I would suggest you get your news from the satellite. I would not answer personal email from your known email addresses or log into any social media you might have until I am able to arrange a scrambler for you. Do not contact friends or colleagues. All contact and information will be through me."

"Are we in danger?" Finally Sam came to life and John recognized the set of her shoulders.

"Danger? No. However," he thought for a moment. "I believe your brother could better explain."

"We left a mess, Sam." John was looking at her. "We left a mess and quite a few people want answers that are best left unanswered."

"They don't believe us."

"Oh. They believe us." He flexed his hand, the one Sarge put the post through, fascinated by the tendons, the complete lack of damage or scarring. "They want to know what all we left behind or brought with us." He turned his attention back to JinJin. "Anything else? What is there to do around here?" I'm going to go stir-crazy in paradise.

The man continued on his obviously prepared speech. "The beach is a safe place to stretch your legs, as long as it's not the main beach close to the air strip. I was warned that you-" this was directed at Reaper, "-are particularly restless. There is quite a bit of privacy. There is a cliff that the occasional tourist will scale. The last one broke his leg when he fell. Ah. One last thing," with this, he pointed straight at John, "do not venture deeply into the jungle. The natives do not like it."

"The last thing I want to do is upset the natives." Reaper's tone was not serious, rather he was poking fun, sarcasm at its most glorious.

"Laugh all you wish, but no, they will not like it. We have not had anyone to disappear in some years, but it's always messy business. The only person ever able to go in and out at will is Dr. Livingston."

Reaper's barely contained laughter threatened to burst forth. He didn't notice his sister sitting straight up. "Dr. Livingston? You're joking, right?"

"Livingston? Abigail Livingston?"

JinJin had the decency to look confused. "Yes. Dr Abigail Livingston-"

"Is she on the island now?" This was the most animated John had seen Sam since he surprised her down at the Ark.

When everyone was still alive.

"Yes. She's been here for a year, doing a study-"

Sam was grinning from ear to ear. "We went to graduate school together; we were really good friends!" She smacked John in the arm. "She's brilliant! A brilliant anthropologist and geneticist. I lost touch with her a few years back." She suddenly snapped her mouth shut, looking at John and JinJin in horror. "Oh my God, I can't contact her, can I?"

John was staring at his sister as if she had grown a second head. JinJin looked rather… uncomfortable. "Considering," he started slowly, "that you are here for quite some time-"

"How long did they tell you?"

"A year. At least." John's hand hit the chair arm and Sam wheezed. "Considering that, it would be foolish for you to avoid her. She has the property next to this one. I will state she is reclusive and is only in town once a week for supplies and dinner. However if you knew her before, perhaps you will at least have someone you can socialize with. If you trust her." He stood up, the interview obviously over. "Will this property suffice? If so, I will retrieve the keys." He helped Sam up, who slowly made her way outside and to the taxi. JinJin touched John on the elbow, delaying him following his sister. "Check for bugs and other… things when you arrive. I doubt anything is there but…"

"I get it. Can't be too safe."

"Or too sorry." He handed John the keys and shook his hand, showing him out the door.

tbc