It's Strange to Miss Someone You Don't Remember | Part 7
Title: It’s Strange to Miss Someone You Don’t Remember
Part: 7/??
Fandoms: Generation Kill
Pairings/Characters: Brad/Ray, Walt
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,507 (Total : 11,481)
Warnings: Adult language, themes, and sexual content
Disclaimer: I do not own the show, or the fictional interpretations from which this is based. I’m just exercising my fangirl fantasies for a bit.
Summary: There’s a man in every picture that Brad doesn’t recognize. He sends letters, and Brad knows it’s his boyfriend, but he can’t connect. For some odd reason, Brad misses him, but he can’t love him. Not anymore. Not since the accident.
Author’s Notes: I'm sorry that it took so long to get this up. I have recently been dealing with some inspirational issues, but those seem to be gone for now, so enjoy.
“I don’t remember who you are.”
Ray gave Brad a quizzical stare, followed by a forced chuckle.
"I'm sorry Brad. I don't understand this game. I do appreciate the effort, but really I don't need the games right not to get all hot for you."
"It's not a game," Brad defended quickly. "It's the truth."
Ray didn't understand. He couldn't. You couldn't just not remember someone, especially not the man you love. it had to be a game. It was the only possible explanation. Brad was just taking it a little too seriously.
Actually, it was something common in their house. Before Ray left for training, he and Brad would play these games to spice up their love life. Nothing was off limits, though they tended to stick to the clichés. Babysitter, kidnapper, classroom, office. Why change scenarios that just worked so well? But Brad had a habit of going out of character... a lot. Did he think that Ray was testing him maybe.
"Baby, I'm glad you're doing so well in keeping to the plot there Brad, but seriously, you don't have," Ray repeated. "Let me get some food in me, and we can start with round two."
Brad let out an exasperated sigh. Ray just wasn't getting it. "No, Ray. I can't remember you. I first time I remember ever speaking to you was six months ago. When the letter came, and I answered. I can't remember you from anything."
Ray's eyes grew wide, and his mouth hung open for a while. This was more than devotion to a character. There was far more going on here than he could imagine. But it didn't make any sense. "How is that possible," he asked solemnly. "You can't just forget me. We've known each other for over six years. You were my first kiss. I don't believe you. It can't be possible. Stop dicking me around Brad!" The further into his words Ray got, the faster and more bitter they became. He almost couldn't recognize his own voice.
This was cruel. Ray knew that Brad had been upset with him for leaving, but he thought they had gotten past this. That Brad had already forgiven him. Why would he do this to him? Ray couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe what was happening. It had to be a game. He couldn’t allow himself to believe it. If he did, he was afraid it would be the end. Nothing over the course of their relationship would matter. Ray would lose everything.
He had seen the bodies of innocent civilians scattered, dead, along roadways. He’d seen true poverty and starvation and somehow he’d managed to hold himself together - for the most part. But now, now he wasn’t as untouchable. He had no gun, no Kevlar, no Humvee, and no one to protect him. He was completely on his own. Vulnerable.
Brad’s pseudo-sympathetic expression didn’t make the situation any better. It was like he was trying to feel as devastated as Ray was certain he looked, but just couldn’t force himself to manage it.
“Ray, you seriously have to listen to me. I’m not bullshitting you. Not about this.”
“No. No, no!” Ray exclaimed desperately. “I did not come back for this fucking shit storm.”
Ray’s eyes glassed over as he struggled not to let his fall. He swallowed hard, followed by a quick intake of air before he started again. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve had six months to tell me!”
“Well,” Brad began. He wasn’t sure how he should explain this. He paused, slowly formulating the words in his mind. “It didn’t seem right to mention it in a letter, and I thought maybe, when you got home, it might trigger something in my-“
Brad was interrupted by sound of a car door slamming in his driveway. He pursed his lips, and focused his eyes on the floor. He appreciated that Walt arrived so promptly but when Brad watched the boy let himself in, all he wanted to do was crawl into a dark corner somewhere and hide. Ray’s reaction on made it made it worse.
“Oh, he’s adorable, Bradley. You should have just told me you upgraded. It would have spared you having to make up your bullshit story.”
“No, no,” Walt responded hastily. “It’s not like that. I’m just a friend, I met in the hospital. Actually, I was his nurse-“
“Well then, Sweetcheeks,” Ray said lifting a finger, “you are not part of this conversation. Do not open your dick sucking, Georgia peaches mouth again. There should only be one southern man talking right now, and it’s not you.” Ray turned back to Brad, while Walt watched like a deer caught in the headlights. “This is between me and my boyfriend.”
“Ray, don’t talk to him like that,” Brad begged. “He’s just here for support. He’s not the prob-“
“Why are you talking about your beautiful little hoochie, Brad? If I remember correctly you were supposed to be telling me the story of why this is the first time I am hearing about any of this.”
Ray voice was uneven. He had difficulty getting out his words as he continued to choke back his tears. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the story, but he knew he had to.
“Like I said, it wasn’t something you put in a letter, I thought it was something you should hear from me, face-to-face. I was also hoping that once you returned something might be trigger my memory.”
“So when that didn’t work, you decided to fuck me and then screw me over? Or is it screw me and fuck me over?” Ray forced himself back on topic. “Either way, I got fucked twice, and the second fuck wasn’t the kind to make me weak in the knees.”
“Ray, I never meant-“
“Save it. I don’t fucking deserve this. Maybe I need an upgrade of my own.” He left it at that, storming out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom.
There was a long, awkward paused before Walt broke the silence.
“Oh my god! Brad, please tell me you didn’t…”
“He instigated it,” Brad tried to defend himself without much conviction. “ I got caught up in the moment. I know I fucked up, okay? So sue me. I’m only human.”
As if on cue, Ray stormed through, duffel bag in hand and his fatigues lazily thrown back on. Brad could tell Ray had rushed, because he missed a button on his shirt, and his pants were obviously backwards. Brad didn’t like the scowl across Ray’s face as he delivered his famous last words.
“You’re not really human if you lack traits essential to humanity - like compassion or common-fucking-sense.”
-------------------------------------------------------
Ray’s mind only stopped racing long enough to reach into his bag and take out his cell phone. There were just so many thoughts, so many emotions. All of them unwanted. He was angry, bewildered, and jealous. Jealous of that blonde whore who was still at the house - the house Ray and Brad shared. He was surprised it could contain it all, especially since once you also had the feeling that his entire world was collapsing around him.
The sidewalks had been a blur as he continued to tear up (but refused to let them fall). It was hard to tell where he was, or where he was going. He could have been staggering around a busy highway for all he knew - all he cared.
He had never felt so low.
He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he would gladly return to retarded officers making even more retarded decisions because their heads are too far up their asses, extended periods of sleep deprivation and Ripped Fuel binges, and rolling through miles of desert and carnage. All to avoid the shattering grief that ran through his body right at that moment. Hell, he’d be fine with the Sun going full-on super nova, taking the earth down with it. Anything to get away from what was crushing down on him, even if just for a moment.
He wiped his eyes, and blinked quickly to try to regain focus. Luckily he was still on a sidewalk, and would not be hit by speeding cars in the foreseeable future.
He had been walking for some time now, unaware of his destination. And especially unaware of where he was. With his vision cleared, it only took a couple moments to realise that he had wandered to the downtown area.
Ray quickly turned on his phone and instinctively went to dial Brad’s number. He stopped halfway through.
Brad had always been the one person he could count on for anything. It hurt even more to know that not only was he losing the love of his life, but he was losing his best friend too.
Ray erased the numbers and started again.
Nate,” Ray’s voice was shaky, restraining the sadness that had tried to emerge since the confrontation ni the kitchen. “Can you do me a solid? I’ll buy lunch…”
Part: 7/??
Fandoms: Generation Kill
Pairings/Characters: Brad/Ray, Walt
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,507 (Total : 11,481)
Warnings: Adult language, themes, and sexual content
Disclaimer: I do not own the show, or the fictional interpretations from which this is based. I’m just exercising my fangirl fantasies for a bit.
Summary: There’s a man in every picture that Brad doesn’t recognize. He sends letters, and Brad knows it’s his boyfriend, but he can’t connect. For some odd reason, Brad misses him, but he can’t love him. Not anymore. Not since the accident.
Author’s Notes: I'm sorry that it took so long to get this up. I have recently been dealing with some inspirational issues, but those seem to be gone for now, so enjoy.
“I don’t remember who you are.”
Ray gave Brad a quizzical stare, followed by a forced chuckle.
"I'm sorry Brad. I don't understand this game. I do appreciate the effort, but really I don't need the games right not to get all hot for you."
"It's not a game," Brad defended quickly. "It's the truth."
Ray didn't understand. He couldn't. You couldn't just not remember someone, especially not the man you love. it had to be a game. It was the only possible explanation. Brad was just taking it a little too seriously.
Actually, it was something common in their house. Before Ray left for training, he and Brad would play these games to spice up their love life. Nothing was off limits, though they tended to stick to the clichés. Babysitter, kidnapper, classroom, office. Why change scenarios that just worked so well? But Brad had a habit of going out of character... a lot. Did he think that Ray was testing him maybe.
"Baby, I'm glad you're doing so well in keeping to the plot there Brad, but seriously, you don't have," Ray repeated. "Let me get some food in me, and we can start with round two."
Brad let out an exasperated sigh. Ray just wasn't getting it. "No, Ray. I can't remember you. I first time I remember ever speaking to you was six months ago. When the letter came, and I answered. I can't remember you from anything."
Ray's eyes grew wide, and his mouth hung open for a while. This was more than devotion to a character. There was far more going on here than he could imagine. But it didn't make any sense. "How is that possible," he asked solemnly. "You can't just forget me. We've known each other for over six years. You were my first kiss. I don't believe you. It can't be possible. Stop dicking me around Brad!" The further into his words Ray got, the faster and more bitter they became. He almost couldn't recognize his own voice.
This was cruel. Ray knew that Brad had been upset with him for leaving, but he thought they had gotten past this. That Brad had already forgiven him. Why would he do this to him? Ray couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe what was happening. It had to be a game. He couldn’t allow himself to believe it. If he did, he was afraid it would be the end. Nothing over the course of their relationship would matter. Ray would lose everything.
He had seen the bodies of innocent civilians scattered, dead, along roadways. He’d seen true poverty and starvation and somehow he’d managed to hold himself together - for the most part. But now, now he wasn’t as untouchable. He had no gun, no Kevlar, no Humvee, and no one to protect him. He was completely on his own. Vulnerable.
Brad’s pseudo-sympathetic expression didn’t make the situation any better. It was like he was trying to feel as devastated as Ray was certain he looked, but just couldn’t force himself to manage it.
“Ray, you seriously have to listen to me. I’m not bullshitting you. Not about this.”
“No. No, no!” Ray exclaimed desperately. “I did not come back for this fucking shit storm.”
Ray’s eyes glassed over as he struggled not to let his fall. He swallowed hard, followed by a quick intake of air before he started again. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve had six months to tell me!”
“Well,” Brad began. He wasn’t sure how he should explain this. He paused, slowly formulating the words in his mind. “It didn’t seem right to mention it in a letter, and I thought maybe, when you got home, it might trigger something in my-“
Brad was interrupted by sound of a car door slamming in his driveway. He pursed his lips, and focused his eyes on the floor. He appreciated that Walt arrived so promptly but when Brad watched the boy let himself in, all he wanted to do was crawl into a dark corner somewhere and hide. Ray’s reaction on made it made it worse.
“Oh, he’s adorable, Bradley. You should have just told me you upgraded. It would have spared you having to make up your bullshit story.”
“No, no,” Walt responded hastily. “It’s not like that. I’m just a friend, I met in the hospital. Actually, I was his nurse-“
“Well then, Sweetcheeks,” Ray said lifting a finger, “you are not part of this conversation. Do not open your dick sucking, Georgia peaches mouth again. There should only be one southern man talking right now, and it’s not you.” Ray turned back to Brad, while Walt watched like a deer caught in the headlights. “This is between me and my boyfriend.”
“Ray, don’t talk to him like that,” Brad begged. “He’s just here for support. He’s not the prob-“
“Why are you talking about your beautiful little hoochie, Brad? If I remember correctly you were supposed to be telling me the story of why this is the first time I am hearing about any of this.”
Ray voice was uneven. He had difficulty getting out his words as he continued to choke back his tears. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the story, but he knew he had to.
“Like I said, it wasn’t something you put in a letter, I thought it was something you should hear from me, face-to-face. I was also hoping that once you returned something might be trigger my memory.”
“So when that didn’t work, you decided to fuck me and then screw me over? Or is it screw me and fuck me over?” Ray forced himself back on topic. “Either way, I got fucked twice, and the second fuck wasn’t the kind to make me weak in the knees.”
“Ray, I never meant-“
“Save it. I don’t fucking deserve this. Maybe I need an upgrade of my own.” He left it at that, storming out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom.
There was a long, awkward paused before Walt broke the silence.
“Oh my god! Brad, please tell me you didn’t…”
“He instigated it,” Brad tried to defend himself without much conviction. “ I got caught up in the moment. I know I fucked up, okay? So sue me. I’m only human.”
As if on cue, Ray stormed through, duffel bag in hand and his fatigues lazily thrown back on. Brad could tell Ray had rushed, because he missed a button on his shirt, and his pants were obviously backwards. Brad didn’t like the scowl across Ray’s face as he delivered his famous last words.
“You’re not really human if you lack traits essential to humanity - like compassion or common-fucking-sense.”
-------------------------------------------------------
Ray’s mind only stopped racing long enough to reach into his bag and take out his cell phone. There were just so many thoughts, so many emotions. All of them unwanted. He was angry, bewildered, and jealous. Jealous of that blonde whore who was still at the house - the house Ray and Brad shared. He was surprised it could contain it all, especially since once you also had the feeling that his entire world was collapsing around him.
The sidewalks had been a blur as he continued to tear up (but refused to let them fall). It was hard to tell where he was, or where he was going. He could have been staggering around a busy highway for all he knew - all he cared.
He had never felt so low.
He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he would gladly return to retarded officers making even more retarded decisions because their heads are too far up their asses, extended periods of sleep deprivation and Ripped Fuel binges, and rolling through miles of desert and carnage. All to avoid the shattering grief that ran through his body right at that moment. Hell, he’d be fine with the Sun going full-on super nova, taking the earth down with it. Anything to get away from what was crushing down on him, even if just for a moment.
He wiped his eyes, and blinked quickly to try to regain focus. Luckily he was still on a sidewalk, and would not be hit by speeding cars in the foreseeable future.
He had been walking for some time now, unaware of his destination. And especially unaware of where he was. With his vision cleared, it only took a couple moments to realise that he had wandered to the downtown area.
Ray quickly turned on his phone and instinctively went to dial Brad’s number. He stopped halfway through.
Brad had always been the one person he could count on for anything. It hurt even more to know that not only was he losing the love of his life, but he was losing his best friend too.
Ray erased the numbers and started again.
Nate,” Ray’s voice was shaky, restraining the sadness that had tried to emerge since the confrontation ni the kitchen. “Can you do me a solid? I’ll buy lunch…”