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The hair on Carter’s neck rose, instincts knowing a pained noise when he heard one. Careful not to let the thick soles of his boots thump heavily on the wooden floor, Carter inched toward the open door.

As he approached, all he could see through the crack was the Sergeant’s desk, cluttered with mugs, discarded pens, and a computer that hadn’t been turned on yet. Holding his breath, Carter pushed open the door a little more, hoping it didn’t squeak and give away his presence. It didn’t, and it only took a second to glance in and find the room was occupied.

Carter almost jerked back as he spotted the duo, sure as hell not wanting to be caught and end up accused of being a Peeping Tom. That was until he heard the soft voice again. This time, he knew it was Reynolds talking, and there was just something sooffabout it. It didn’t help that he’d caught a glimpse of the woman, not enough to see clearly, but enough to add to the feeling of wrongness.

Steeling himself, Carter stepped into the room a little more, as silent as possible. What he saw made him briefly wonder if he might just be cursed and who the hell in the bureaucracy of life events and karma he had pissed off.

He didn’t recognize the woman, though she wore a uniform. Reynolds bulk hid the display of her rank, but Carter couldn’t help but think howyoungshe looked. Her dark eyes were wide, and he could see the tightness of her jaw, even as absolute fear and loathing shone from her gaze. Reynolds had her pinned against the wall, one hand up the front of her uniform, the other gripped tight against her waist. Carter could hear Reynolds clearer now, voice low and savage as he told her thathewas in charge and if she wanted to have any chance in hell of getting anywhere on the ladder, she had better behave.

Carter knew this sort of thing happened. He’d never seen it firsthand, but he’d heard the rumors, the whispers of commanding officers who quietly ended their contracts or were shipped to parts unknown. The world had been slowly catching on to the abuse that cropped up in the potentially fertile ground of command and power within the military.

She jerked her head back when Reynolds leaned forward. Even as Carter could see she was stuck in a position she had no way out of, there was no denying her spirit. She never hid her loathing, even when forced to give in. Then her eyes caught Carter, going wider, and Carter saw the flash of fear, of pleading.

And that was all it took.

Carter advanced, boots stomping against the hardwood of the office floor. Reynolds turned but barely had a chance to recognize what was happening before Carter’s fist slammed into the man’s face. There was a crack and a spurt of blood as Reynold’s cried out.

“You son of a bitch,” Carter snarled, grabbing the man by the collar and ripping him away from the woman. “I knew you were a bastard, butthis? You absolute fuck!”

“Grant…” Reynolds was cut off when Carter hit him again, driving him against the wall. The Sergeant slumped as Carter advanced, ignoring the woman who had slipped around them, getting out of the crossfire.

“Don’t you fucking talk,” Carter growled at him. “You don’t get to talk. You're a weaselly little coward. Lording yourself over me, knowing I could beat your ass into next week, but couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Using your rank to fucking take advantage of women, to rape them? Fuck you, Reynolds, you don’t get to say shit.”

He wanted to do so much more than break the man’s nose and bruise his eye. He felt the rage and absolute hate for the man trying to get away from Carter despite the wall behind him. It would have been easy, too easy.

Instead, he spun away from Reynolds and reached out to the woman, who became rigid. Carter tried to smile but knew it was probably more like a grimace, as it did little to comfort her.

“C’mon,” he told her gruffly, still not touching her. “Let’s go.”

She went before him, keeping Carter between her and Reynolds. Carter didn’t look back as he marched out of the office.

“Name?” he asked her.

“King,” she said, glancing at his chest and straightening. “Private King, sir.”

Carter snorted. Even now, she felt the drive to address him respectfully. For all the horror she had glimpsed and nearly had to experience, she still saluted him. Oh, how wonderful and horrible the military could be.

“C’mon, private,” he said, nodding forward. “Medbay with you.”

“Sir, I don’t…” she stopped short, looking unsure.

Carter understood. For all the progress, or show of progress, the military made about stopping and punishing this sort of thing, the reality was a lot messier. A noisy victim might be shunned and shifted to some pathetic position out of everyone’s way. Worse, they might find themselves punished.

“You don’t have to tell anyone anything if you don’t want to,” Carter told her as gently as he could. “I wish you would, but you don’thaveto, alright? But you still need to get looked over. Lie to them if you have to, fuck knows I’ve done it a time or two.”

Her eyes widened at that, and he snorted. “Not for...the same reason. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a temper.”

She watched him warily for a moment before nodding. Private King followed him in complete silence as he led her to the medbay. When they entered, he found it empty, save for a familiar dark-haired man standing in the hallway, staring at a tablet.

Dean looked up, catching sight of Carter and the woman. “Carter?”

“Here to drop her off. It’s not for me,” Carter assured him.

Dean snorted. “Considering you don’t look like you went a few rounds with a gorilla, I didn’t figure. What brings you in?”

Carter shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m not the one here for medical assistance.”

“How very formal of you,” Dean said slowly, watching the woman carefully.