Blarrr.
Title: Dead Letter
Fandom: Saving Private Ryan
Pairing: Wade/Caparzo, Upham/Reiben maybe if you squint a bit.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The letter isn't for him, and yet, he just can't help himself.
Warning: Um, spoilers.
Upham fumbles in the dead man's jacket - he knows what he's looking for, he just wishes he didn't have to find it.
His fingertips are stained red, the crimson embedded beneath his fingernails and in the wrinkles of his knuckles, feeling thick and clogging up his skin.
"Come on, come on..." He murmurs under his breath, pawing at Wade's pockets gently, until he turns out what he's looking for, holding it carefully in shaking fingers.
"What's that y'got there?" Reiben's accent cuts into him like shards of glass, and the Jewish man is stood, hands on hips with narrowed eyes.
"Nothing. It's nothing." Upham shakes his head quickly, pocketing the square of folded paper, smudged with the blood of the medic.
"Well then let's go, huh?" Reiben shakes his head, discarding the dog-end of cigarette onto the ground where it smoulders slowly beside Wade's body, dying like the cold man it's lying next to.
"Y-yeah. Okay." Upham nods shakily, his legs quivering slightly as he takes careful, measured steps, like a newborn foal, too uncomfortable in his own skin. Reiben walks away, shaking his head, muttering something under his breath, which Upham's pretty sure is derogatory. He follows slowly, feeling the piece of paper as a weight in his pocket, dragging at his mind. He pushes it to the back of his mind and falls in line with the others.
"Look, Upham... About me an' Caparzo... It... It's complicated, y'know?" Wade smiles nervously, lacing his fingers together until the grubby knuckles go white. Upham nods dumbly.
"Yeah? W-Well, it's not my business really. I mean... You're a grown man. 'S your choice who you wanna... Y'know... Go with." Upham murmurs, blushing at how childish he sounds. Wade's gaunt face, however, lights up.
"Thanks Upham, really. Thank you," He smiles gratefully "But, um... Look, if anything happens to me... If I die in action or whatever, there's a letter. In my donkey jacket, top pocket - it's for Carparzo. Give it to him for me willya?" Wade asks, patting the corresponding pocket on his coat. Upham nods.
"Sure. But nothing's going to happen to you, Wade - you are the medic, after all." He smiles, feeling a little more at ease around this small, toughened man.
"An' don't you forget it." Wade winks.
Upham shoots awake, eyes wild, breathing heavily through his nose.
"Jesus." He breathes, wishing the memory would leave him alone. Wade's dead. Caparzo's dead.
What about the letter?
The paper's in his hand, grinning at him like a cheshire cat, white and luminous. It's not mine. He pauses, considering this. It's a dead letter - can't send it, can't return it to sender, his mind reasons slowly and logically. Unconsciously, he unfolds the paper, revealing Wade's spidery handwriting.
Caparzo,
If you're reading this, I'm probably dead.
Sorry about that.
This letter's to tell you I loved you, possibly more than anything in the world ever.
I hope you know that.
But don't mourn forever. Black doesn't suit you.
Upham smiles slightly at the comment that's exactly the sort of thing Wade would've said to Caparzo, before continuing to read carefully.
These last few months have been... Well, in regards to most things, they've been pretty fucked up.
In a bad way.
Then I met you. Adrian Caparzo - badass of the company, huh?
You aren't like that.
I know you aren't. I love you for it.
And suddenly stuff started looking up. The death and the blood and the fear were muted a little, put on hold - for us.
So.
This is in fact, goodbye.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
FUCK CATHOLICS.
I love you.
Love,
Wade.
Upham stares at the letter slowly, his hands shaking again.
"Shit." He murmurs out loud, then again. "Shit. Shit. Shit." And suddenly he's scared - so fucking scared.
He's going to die, he's going to die without anyone - in this godforsaken foreign country with a bunch of men who hate him.
"Merde." He murmurs in the second tongue, testing it out. "Merde."
"Upham. I swear to god if you don't go back to sleep, I will kill you." Reiben's slow, sleep-soaked drawl from beside him.
"Right. Right. Sorry." Upham nods shakily.
"Jesus, 'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you man. Take your time." Reiben blinks, and Upham's stunned.
"Thankyou."
"No problem."
Maybe it's not quite so godawful anymore.
Upham smiles.
---
^^
Commentsh?
Fandom: Saving Private Ryan
Pairing: Wade/Caparzo, Upham/Reiben maybe if you squint a bit.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The letter isn't for him, and yet, he just can't help himself.
Warning: Um, spoilers.
Upham fumbles in the dead man's jacket - he knows what he's looking for, he just wishes he didn't have to find it.
His fingertips are stained red, the crimson embedded beneath his fingernails and in the wrinkles of his knuckles, feeling thick and clogging up his skin.
"Come on, come on..." He murmurs under his breath, pawing at Wade's pockets gently, until he turns out what he's looking for, holding it carefully in shaking fingers.
"What's that y'got there?" Reiben's accent cuts into him like shards of glass, and the Jewish man is stood, hands on hips with narrowed eyes.
"Nothing. It's nothing." Upham shakes his head quickly, pocketing the square of folded paper, smudged with the blood of the medic.
"Well then let's go, huh?" Reiben shakes his head, discarding the dog-end of cigarette onto the ground where it smoulders slowly beside Wade's body, dying like the cold man it's lying next to.
"Y-yeah. Okay." Upham nods shakily, his legs quivering slightly as he takes careful, measured steps, like a newborn foal, too uncomfortable in his own skin. Reiben walks away, shaking his head, muttering something under his breath, which Upham's pretty sure is derogatory. He follows slowly, feeling the piece of paper as a weight in his pocket, dragging at his mind. He pushes it to the back of his mind and falls in line with the others.
"Look, Upham... About me an' Caparzo... It... It's complicated, y'know?" Wade smiles nervously, lacing his fingers together until the grubby knuckles go white. Upham nods dumbly.
"Yeah? W-Well, it's not my business really. I mean... You're a grown man. 'S your choice who you wanna... Y'know... Go with." Upham murmurs, blushing at how childish he sounds. Wade's gaunt face, however, lights up.
"Thanks Upham, really. Thank you," He smiles gratefully "But, um... Look, if anything happens to me... If I die in action or whatever, there's a letter. In my donkey jacket, top pocket - it's for Carparzo. Give it to him for me willya?" Wade asks, patting the corresponding pocket on his coat. Upham nods.
"Sure. But nothing's going to happen to you, Wade - you are the medic, after all." He smiles, feeling a little more at ease around this small, toughened man.
"An' don't you forget it." Wade winks.
Upham shoots awake, eyes wild, breathing heavily through his nose.
"Jesus." He breathes, wishing the memory would leave him alone. Wade's dead. Caparzo's dead.
What about the letter?
The paper's in his hand, grinning at him like a cheshire cat, white and luminous. It's not mine. He pauses, considering this. It's a dead letter - can't send it, can't return it to sender, his mind reasons slowly and logically. Unconsciously, he unfolds the paper, revealing Wade's spidery handwriting.
Caparzo,
If you're reading this, I'm probably dead.
Sorry about that.
This letter's to tell you I loved you, possibly more than anything in the world ever.
I hope you know that.
But don't mourn forever. Black doesn't suit you.
Upham smiles slightly at the comment that's exactly the sort of thing Wade would've said to Caparzo, before continuing to read carefully.
These last few months have been... Well, in regards to most things, they've been pretty fucked up.
In a bad way.
Then I met you. Adrian Caparzo - badass of the company, huh?
You aren't like that.
I know you aren't. I love you for it.
And suddenly stuff started looking up. The death and the blood and the fear were muted a little, put on hold - for us.
So.
This is in fact, goodbye.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
FUCK CATHOLICS.
I love you.
Love,
Wade.
Upham stares at the letter slowly, his hands shaking again.
"Shit." He murmurs out loud, then again. "Shit. Shit. Shit." And suddenly he's scared - so fucking scared.
He's going to die, he's going to die without anyone - in this godforsaken foreign country with a bunch of men who hate him.
"Merde." He murmurs in the second tongue, testing it out. "Merde."
"Upham. I swear to god if you don't go back to sleep, I will kill you." Reiben's slow, sleep-soaked drawl from beside him.
"Right. Right. Sorry." Upham nods shakily.
"Jesus, 'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you man. Take your time." Reiben blinks, and Upham's stunned.
"Thankyou."
"No problem."
Maybe it's not quite so godawful anymore.
Upham smiles.
---
^^
Commentsh?