March 2. leave the lies ill-concealed and the wounds never healed and the games not worth winning
Title: Not A Game
Day/Theme: March 2. leave the lies ill-concealed and the wounds never healed and the games not worth winning
Series: Dog Soldiers
Character/Pairing: Radioman Cooper
Rating: PG
It was probably a nice little cottage in the daylight. It was a weird thought for a soldier, peering out the window and tense for any sign of movement. A back corner of Cooper’s mind was still able to notice the damp, green scent of the herb and flower garden along the outside walls, even over the sharp smell of the superglue holding Sergeant Wells’ guts together.
The Sergeant was still blissfully unconscious, sprawled on the bed behind Cooper. Cooper’s eyes were on the window and his ears were perked backwards for any sound from the sergeant. If he lived, there would be infections to fight. He might not be able to soldier anymore. He might never heal. Even if he lived.
Downstairs, he could hear Terry and Spoon bicker good-naturedly for a moment. Megan’s softer voice rose and fell again too. She sounded more amused than annoyed, which was a good thing. She wasn’t a shrieker, a small mercy.
A quick blur of movement in the glen outside made him tense. He didn’t dare waste a shot until he was sure. One good thing about the full moon was that there was a lots of light. The bad thing was what the light shone on. It rose out of the underbrush and looked at the cottage, it was outlined in silver, the long hair highlighted by the moon. It tilted its head to look directly at Cooper. His finger tightened on the trigger, but then it was gone, in another rustle. He forced himself to relax again.
Another murmur of conversation came from downstairs. There was a low snarl from Ryan. Cooper felt his jaw clench at the sound of the man’s voice. If there was any justice, Ryan would’ve been left in the woods with the men he had let die. The Sarge must’ve heard it too, because his breathing caught. After a moment, it steadied again.
Even on death’s door, the Sergeant was attuned to his men, and his enemies. They shouldn’t have to lose him to treachery. Or Bruce. Or Joe. Even if the rest of them lived would they be good for anything ever again? Would they ever be able to sleep in the dark, or look at the moon the same way again? Nothing was worth that. Not a war game. And not a new critter for Ryan to study.
The things outside were monsters. So was Ryan. Given the choice between the two, Cooper preferred the monster that didn’t lie.
Day/Theme: March 2. leave the lies ill-concealed and the wounds never healed and the games not worth winning
Series: Dog Soldiers
Character/Pairing: Radioman Cooper
Rating: PG
It was probably a nice little cottage in the daylight. It was a weird thought for a soldier, peering out the window and tense for any sign of movement. A back corner of Cooper’s mind was still able to notice the damp, green scent of the herb and flower garden along the outside walls, even over the sharp smell of the superglue holding Sergeant Wells’ guts together.
The Sergeant was still blissfully unconscious, sprawled on the bed behind Cooper. Cooper’s eyes were on the window and his ears were perked backwards for any sound from the sergeant. If he lived, there would be infections to fight. He might not be able to soldier anymore. He might never heal. Even if he lived.
Downstairs, he could hear Terry and Spoon bicker good-naturedly for a moment. Megan’s softer voice rose and fell again too. She sounded more amused than annoyed, which was a good thing. She wasn’t a shrieker, a small mercy.
A quick blur of movement in the glen outside made him tense. He didn’t dare waste a shot until he was sure. One good thing about the full moon was that there was a lots of light. The bad thing was what the light shone on. It rose out of the underbrush and looked at the cottage, it was outlined in silver, the long hair highlighted by the moon. It tilted its head to look directly at Cooper. His finger tightened on the trigger, but then it was gone, in another rustle. He forced himself to relax again.
Another murmur of conversation came from downstairs. There was a low snarl from Ryan. Cooper felt his jaw clench at the sound of the man’s voice. If there was any justice, Ryan would’ve been left in the woods with the men he had let die. The Sarge must’ve heard it too, because his breathing caught. After a moment, it steadied again.
Even on death’s door, the Sergeant was attuned to his men, and his enemies. They shouldn’t have to lose him to treachery. Or Bruce. Or Joe. Even if the rest of them lived would they be good for anything ever again? Would they ever be able to sleep in the dark, or look at the moon the same way again? Nothing was worth that. Not a war game. And not a new critter for Ryan to study.
The things outside were monsters. So was Ryan. Given the choice between the two, Cooper preferred the monster that didn’t lie.