Random untitled
This one is.. depressing. Had a memory of my husband's reaction when he got the news a couple years ago that he'd lost one of his old army teammates while in the sandbox. And anyone that says army men can't cry.. well, they've never seen something like that, then. This one is for those moments...
Category: Fic!
Fandom: Losers
Rating: G
Summary: Pooch's reactions to the dwindling team
Disclaimer: I do not own the Losers, the movie, comic, or characters. I make no money from writing or posting this fic.
Warnings: character death. somewhat depressing. unbeta'd piece
Pooch left first. Always a military man, he stayed in but moved himself off the teams. A long talk somewhere between his second little girl and the pregnancy of his first son, Jolene set her foot down. She wouldn't make him get out of the military life- the benefits were amazing, life and support was great, but worrying over his life every time he kissed her goodbye for another mission ate her up. So he moved from mission work to base, using his skills stateside in an 8-5 rhythm that brought him back to Jolene's arms every night.
He kept tabs on his old team. Phone calls, emails, random cards, everyone checked back in. He fixed their stuff when they happened to be in the area, made sure they had a place to crash if they ever needed it. And they all did, alone or together, even the new guys that replaced him and Roque. They were his team, his family, his brothers-in-arms.
The day the team straggled back from a bad mission, minus a man, Pooch broke. Cougar's hat hanging from Jensen's limp fingers spoke for the words missing from the hacker's mouth. The lifetime expectancy of a sniper was dangerously short, but Pooch had never expected it to happen to his men, his team. That night they sat in silence, mourning the man gone but never forgotten. When Jolene found him alone on the porch well after midnight, he let himself cry silently against her shoulder. Two days later he attended the funeral, eyes bloodshot from grief, but not a tear in sight. He paid his respects and told the rest they could stick around as long as they needed to.
Clay, the bastard, was retired before the job could kill him. Pooch attended the party without the wife and kids and listened to Clay swear brilliantly in every language he could abuse. Retirement wasn't high on his list of things to achieve. The civilian life didn't settle with him, and no one was exactly surprised when a couple months later he succumbed to one of his crazy women. No one cried at his funeral either, but Pooch showed up with the family just the same. There were surprisingly few people in attendance, most of them in uniform.
The team wasn't the Losers anymore, with only Jensen left. The new CO had dubbed them something else, and when Jensen finally got to come around to visit, he didn't bring the rest of his team. That night at dinner, there was only one extra place at the table. Pooch stared down the table at his wife and kids and Jensen. On the porch after dinner Pooch one-arm hugged Jensen and warned him that the hacker was not allowed to die.
They were the last of the Losers. They weren't allowed to die yet.
****
An arm squeezed around Jolene's shoulder as she stared down at the wooden casket. The hand left her a moment later, coming down to stroke scarred fingers over the smooth surface. Her slightly greying hair had fallen into her face, hiding her from the people filling the room. It didn't hide her from piercing, aged blue eyes. “You need anything, at all, you know where to find me.” She nodded, unable to answer the familiar line. She turned away and was promptly attended by her now- grown children.
Jensen was forty-seven when he became the last Loser.
Category: Fic!
Fandom: Losers
Rating: G
Summary: Pooch's reactions to the dwindling team
Disclaimer: I do not own the Losers, the movie, comic, or characters. I make no money from writing or posting this fic.
Warnings: character death. somewhat depressing. unbeta'd piece
Pooch left first. Always a military man, he stayed in but moved himself off the teams. A long talk somewhere between his second little girl and the pregnancy of his first son, Jolene set her foot down. She wouldn't make him get out of the military life- the benefits were amazing, life and support was great, but worrying over his life every time he kissed her goodbye for another mission ate her up. So he moved from mission work to base, using his skills stateside in an 8-5 rhythm that brought him back to Jolene's arms every night.
He kept tabs on his old team. Phone calls, emails, random cards, everyone checked back in. He fixed their stuff when they happened to be in the area, made sure they had a place to crash if they ever needed it. And they all did, alone or together, even the new guys that replaced him and Roque. They were his team, his family, his brothers-in-arms.
The day the team straggled back from a bad mission, minus a man, Pooch broke. Cougar's hat hanging from Jensen's limp fingers spoke for the words missing from the hacker's mouth. The lifetime expectancy of a sniper was dangerously short, but Pooch had never expected it to happen to his men, his team. That night they sat in silence, mourning the man gone but never forgotten. When Jolene found him alone on the porch well after midnight, he let himself cry silently against her shoulder. Two days later he attended the funeral, eyes bloodshot from grief, but not a tear in sight. He paid his respects and told the rest they could stick around as long as they needed to.
Clay, the bastard, was retired before the job could kill him. Pooch attended the party without the wife and kids and listened to Clay swear brilliantly in every language he could abuse. Retirement wasn't high on his list of things to achieve. The civilian life didn't settle with him, and no one was exactly surprised when a couple months later he succumbed to one of his crazy women. No one cried at his funeral either, but Pooch showed up with the family just the same. There were surprisingly few people in attendance, most of them in uniform.
The team wasn't the Losers anymore, with only Jensen left. The new CO had dubbed them something else, and when Jensen finally got to come around to visit, he didn't bring the rest of his team. That night at dinner, there was only one extra place at the table. Pooch stared down the table at his wife and kids and Jensen. On the porch after dinner Pooch one-arm hugged Jensen and warned him that the hacker was not allowed to die.
They were the last of the Losers. They weren't allowed to die yet.
****
An arm squeezed around Jolene's shoulder as she stared down at the wooden casket. The hand left her a moment later, coming down to stroke scarred fingers over the smooth surface. Her slightly greying hair had fallen into her face, hiding her from the people filling the room. It didn't hide her from piercing, aged blue eyes. “You need anything, at all, you know where to find me.” She nodded, unable to answer the familiar line. She turned away and was promptly attended by her now- grown children.
Jensen was forty-seven when he became the last Loser.