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ARGH This was supposed to be a DRABBLE. 100 WORDS, I got inspired by the challenge *bonks head against desk* I don't know where it came from. The second sentence just popped into my head as soon as I read the challenge.
It's a little different than my usual style, I hope you like.
Title: Anniversaries
Gen/Slash: Gen, friendship. But if you want, it could be pre-slash. Or slash. Mainly friendship :D
Word Count: 1,141
Fandom:NCIS
Characters: A young Jethro & Ducky.
Anniversaries
Let’s see.
It’s been five days, twenty-two minutes, and forty-two seconds since I’ve met him.
I jest; actually it’s been forty-five seconds.
Through these five days I have hummed to him. I have spoken to him. I have watched him sleep. I have watched the time. I have dressed his wounds.
It’s been four days, fifty-two minutes, and let us say, twenty-three seconds since I’ve heard him speak.
He’s so very young. Woke up half delirious, questioned my accent and arrogantly swore in my face that he would never betray his country.
I, of course, settled the manner then and there, that he had no reason to fear me.
I was his doctor, he could confide in me, I said.
He gave me a weary eye, apologized for the mix up, his head…hurts. He then mentions that he shall go to sleep. I nod and continue checking his vitals, and I smile as I note he is still watching me from supposed sleeping eyes.
It’s been three days, fifteen minutes, and thirty-five seconds since he first confided in me.
I’d never killed a man before.
He looks up, guilt in his eyes.
I never thought I would.
I told him that I never thought I would either.
At this he gives me a puzzled glance. His eyes clearly say You’ve… killed?
Many a time, I reply easily. Of course I was younger; technology wasn’t as good then as it is now. Couldn’t quite save them, no matter how hard I tried, I ended with a whisper.
But, that’s different, he argued. You were trying to help and save them!
Oh? And you went off to war to kill and destroy homes, and lives?
No! I went…I went to-to help.
And a man lost his life, such is the casualty of war. There have been worse, and there always will be. Do not destroy your own soul for his, for he is already lost. Guilt will not bring him back. I’m guessing you didn’t want to kill this man?
No, never, I-never.
Then it was a matter of life and death?
Yes. I had to, or else he was going to kill…m-my buddy.
And if he did kill your buddy, wouldn’t you have wanted to kill him then?
I-I suppose.
So you see? You managed to save two lives. Your buddy’s and your own.
It’s been two days, forty-four minutes, and thirteen seconds since he has first laughed.
I laughed along with him.
It was a simple joke, and I cannot even remember it now. But the room had been so tight with tense emotions and harsh lights, that it was just enough to make us seem like loons to the other patients.
War is never pretty, or fun.
But we must make the best of it, in any little way we can.
So we laughed.
Laughed until his head hurt, and even then he was still chuckling.
It was then that he leaned in and spluttered through his mirth.
Thank You.
It was yesterday when he stepped on my toes.
Which was a good thing.
It meant his leg was going to be just fine.
I made him stand up and walk around the room.
He complained at first, I called him a lazy old sod, and he grumbled as he slowly got out from his bed.
He reminded me of a newborn fawn when he started, and quickly caught on, just so.
I told him to calm down. He was moving too fast for his body to catch up.
He ignored me, and he stumbled.
I caught him.
And he stepped on my toe.
He looked up at me with a cocky smile, and I shook my head and aided him to his bed.
He snuggled into his pillows with a content look upon his face.
The fear had lifted.
I know he was afraid of becoming one of those soldiers that returned with a lost limb, or a forever injured knee.
Like me.
He doesn’t mention it, but sometimes, before, I would catch him seeing me limp in and his own eyes would dart to his own leg.
I don’t mind.
Not anymore.
My thoughts were broken when he began to speak.
That was fun.
He said.
We shall have to do it again tomorrow.
All right, I agree.
What now?
Tell me a story Pop.
I glare at him.
Fine.
And I settled down and warn him.
But once I start, you’ll never hear the end of these stories. Now, final warning. Are you sure?
Sure, they have to be at least slightly interesting. Right?
I snort, and I begin.
I tell the tale of how once I was known as Illya Kuryakin, and how the girls screamed and fell at my feet with desire, and I would save them with one hand tied behind my back.
Tell me a real story, he complains, I’m not a little kid.
I raise my eyebrow, and continue with the story I had started.
It is today that he is lost.
I bite my lip, debating if perhaps he needs some time alone. I almost walk past his cot, but he notices and looks at me searchingly.
Ah, so he does need company. I sit next to him.
Ducky, he sighs, you’re the only one. The only one who I can talk to…
I’m sure it’s only because you’re on another side of the world. I’m sure your family-
No. They don’t. And, I’ve tried talking to the other patients, but I-I can’t.
Why not?
It’s just- never mind.
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes. He just needs someone’s presence. We’ve all had such a feeling before. I begin rubbing my knee, every so often the pain returns. Mild, not as bad as it was.
He notices, and he hesitates. I stop and just stare at him, tilting my head waiting for him to continue.
It’s just, I know…I know I can trust you. How can I trust them?
You don’t need to trust to them. They just need someone to talk to as well.
Sometimes, sometimes, I don’t need them. Not when you’re here.
He breaks.
I break.
A tear manages to escape the stubborn wall. He quickly wipes it away.
I just feel so goddamn weak. I never felt this-this…pain before.
I hate to sound clichéd, but war really does change a person Jethro. It’s up to you to find yourself again.
What if…what if I never knew who I was?
You do, and you will find him again. You’re stronger than most, and if I have faith in one thing, it’s you.
He leans in, his head touching my shoulder. There is no sobbing, there is no crying, but there is still pain.
And it is now.
That I comfort him.
And I shall never stop.
It's a little different than my usual style, I hope you like.
Title: Anniversaries
Gen/Slash: Gen, friendship. But if you want, it could be pre-slash. Or slash. Mainly friendship :D
Word Count: 1,141
Fandom:NCIS
Characters: A young Jethro & Ducky.
Anniversaries
Let’s see.
It’s been five days, twenty-two minutes, and forty-two seconds since I’ve met him.
I jest; actually it’s been forty-five seconds.
Through these five days I have hummed to him. I have spoken to him. I have watched him sleep. I have watched the time. I have dressed his wounds.
It’s been four days, fifty-two minutes, and let us say, twenty-three seconds since I’ve heard him speak.
He’s so very young. Woke up half delirious, questioned my accent and arrogantly swore in my face that he would never betray his country.
I, of course, settled the manner then and there, that he had no reason to fear me.
I was his doctor, he could confide in me, I said.
He gave me a weary eye, apologized for the mix up, his head…hurts. He then mentions that he shall go to sleep. I nod and continue checking his vitals, and I smile as I note he is still watching me from supposed sleeping eyes.
It’s been three days, fifteen minutes, and thirty-five seconds since he first confided in me.
I’d never killed a man before.
He looks up, guilt in his eyes.
I never thought I would.
I told him that I never thought I would either.
At this he gives me a puzzled glance. His eyes clearly say You’ve… killed?
Many a time, I reply easily. Of course I was younger; technology wasn’t as good then as it is now. Couldn’t quite save them, no matter how hard I tried, I ended with a whisper.
But, that’s different, he argued. You were trying to help and save them!
Oh? And you went off to war to kill and destroy homes, and lives?
No! I went…I went to-to help.
And a man lost his life, such is the casualty of war. There have been worse, and there always will be. Do not destroy your own soul for his, for he is already lost. Guilt will not bring him back. I’m guessing you didn’t want to kill this man?
No, never, I-never.
Then it was a matter of life and death?
Yes. I had to, or else he was going to kill…m-my buddy.
And if he did kill your buddy, wouldn’t you have wanted to kill him then?
I-I suppose.
So you see? You managed to save two lives. Your buddy’s and your own.
It’s been two days, forty-four minutes, and thirteen seconds since he has first laughed.
I laughed along with him.
It was a simple joke, and I cannot even remember it now. But the room had been so tight with tense emotions and harsh lights, that it was just enough to make us seem like loons to the other patients.
War is never pretty, or fun.
But we must make the best of it, in any little way we can.
So we laughed.
Laughed until his head hurt, and even then he was still chuckling.
It was then that he leaned in and spluttered through his mirth.
Thank You.
It was yesterday when he stepped on my toes.
Which was a good thing.
It meant his leg was going to be just fine.
I made him stand up and walk around the room.
He complained at first, I called him a lazy old sod, and he grumbled as he slowly got out from his bed.
He reminded me of a newborn fawn when he started, and quickly caught on, just so.
I told him to calm down. He was moving too fast for his body to catch up.
He ignored me, and he stumbled.
I caught him.
And he stepped on my toe.
He looked up at me with a cocky smile, and I shook my head and aided him to his bed.
He snuggled into his pillows with a content look upon his face.
The fear had lifted.
I know he was afraid of becoming one of those soldiers that returned with a lost limb, or a forever injured knee.
Like me.
He doesn’t mention it, but sometimes, before, I would catch him seeing me limp in and his own eyes would dart to his own leg.
I don’t mind.
Not anymore.
My thoughts were broken when he began to speak.
That was fun.
He said.
We shall have to do it again tomorrow.
All right, I agree.
What now?
Tell me a story Pop.
I glare at him.
Fine.
And I settled down and warn him.
But once I start, you’ll never hear the end of these stories. Now, final warning. Are you sure?
Sure, they have to be at least slightly interesting. Right?
I snort, and I begin.
I tell the tale of how once I was known as Illya Kuryakin, and how the girls screamed and fell at my feet with desire, and I would save them with one hand tied behind my back.
Tell me a real story, he complains, I’m not a little kid.
I raise my eyebrow, and continue with the story I had started.
It is today that he is lost.
I bite my lip, debating if perhaps he needs some time alone. I almost walk past his cot, but he notices and looks at me searchingly.
Ah, so he does need company. I sit next to him.
Ducky, he sighs, you’re the only one. The only one who I can talk to…
I’m sure it’s only because you’re on another side of the world. I’m sure your family-
No. They don’t. And, I’ve tried talking to the other patients, but I-I can’t.
Why not?
It’s just- never mind.
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes. He just needs someone’s presence. We’ve all had such a feeling before. I begin rubbing my knee, every so often the pain returns. Mild, not as bad as it was.
He notices, and he hesitates. I stop and just stare at him, tilting my head waiting for him to continue.
It’s just, I know…I know I can trust you. How can I trust them?
You don’t need to trust to them. They just need someone to talk to as well.
Sometimes, sometimes, I don’t need them. Not when you’re here.
He breaks.
I break.
A tear manages to escape the stubborn wall. He quickly wipes it away.
I just feel so goddamn weak. I never felt this-this…pain before.
I hate to sound clichéd, but war really does change a person Jethro. It’s up to you to find yourself again.
What if…what if I never knew who I was?
You do, and you will find him again. You’re stronger than most, and if I have faith in one thing, it’s you.
He leans in, his head touching my shoulder. There is no sobbing, there is no crying, but there is still pain.
And it is now.
That I comfort him.
And I shall never stop.