[Generation Kill] [Brad, Nate] Mercy
Title: Mercy
Subject: Generation Kill | Brad, Nate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He tries not to think that he's harbouring an enemy, he calls it giving a friend a place to stay instead.
Notes: Dumb sequel to with the black sky. For the prompt And blood in torrents pour, in vain-always in vain, for war breeds war again. IDDKKK i am too sleepy for werdz.
Nate had left the Corps with the intention to never go back, to wash his hands of it and to leave it behind him. There were lots of things he was leaving behind, frustration and anger and big mistakes he didn't like to think about, a flash of grey eyes that haunted him, a hand snatching away, the overwhelming feel of his stomach dropping out.
Fate, it seemed, had different plans for him, plans that definitely involved going back.
The conscription notice came on a Sunday. The letters had sat on the kitchen table, next to his oatmeal and orange juice. He hadn't even looked at the envelope as he'd opened it, eyes fixed on the newspaper. He gets the envelope open, slips out the letter and then he looks, glances down and almost, almost rears back at the words that stand out to him.
You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States.
His hands don't shake as he sets the letter down. He takes a deep sip of orange juice and pushes his chair back. Outside, the sun is rising. The sun is rising and he's going to war again, going to fight against vampires of all fucking things.
He goes back to Recon. It's a little different now, Brad's gone and when he asks Ray, he gets a shrug and Ray refusing to meet his eyes. Walt and Poke are similarly quiet on the subject. Trombley, it seems, legitimately doesn't know anything. Everyone agrees it's not right without Brad, even if they're just sitting around offices in California instead of rolling into Iraq in tin cans. In some ways, Nate is glad, that look still haunting him. He misses him though, the sarcastic remarks, the intelligence, the advice. Mike's not back with him, he's got a boy named Troy instead these days, and it's not quite the same. It's not even nearly the same.
Nate watches Ray shoot a little girl in the head. Nate watches Ray stop the enemy from chewing on Walt's neck. The flinch of remorse in his stomach that he'd once had is still there.
He finds out the truth of Brad's disappearance in battle, when he looks across a warehouse and there is Brad, tall amongst a group of others, eyes fixed on Nate. He follows when Nate cocks his head away from the Marines and the Vampires, the guns and the noise of war, even contained war like this is still impossibly loud.
It's another office, but Brad keeps himself far away this time, tucks himself against the wall and doesn't say anything until Nate does.
"How long?" Nate asks, leans back against a desk and doesn't meet Brad's eyes, not yet, not now.
"Libo," Brad says. He shrugs. "Before Iraq." And that's a shock, that's a punch to the stomach because how did nobody notice, how did Nate not notice.
"They'll kill you if you go back out there," he says, changes the subject because he's choking on the other one. "Not Ray or Poke but, there's new guys, there's Trombley. He hates-"
"Maybe that's what I want," Brad says, voice soft and so not like Brad at all that it's another punch to the guts, it feels like the air is too thin to breathe now. He finally meets Brad's gaze, and it's nothing like the look that won't leave him alone.
He tries not to think that he's harbouring an enemy, he calls it giving a friend a place to stay instead. Coincidentally, that friend just so happens to be a vampire. The war isn't over, won't be over for a long time, but Brad's more like himself in Nate's space, more like the man that Nate used to know and, that, at least, is worth something more than politics.
Subject: Generation Kill | Brad, Nate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He tries not to think that he's harbouring an enemy, he calls it giving a friend a place to stay instead.
Notes: Dumb sequel to with the black sky. For the prompt And blood in torrents pour, in vain-always in vain, for war breeds war again. IDDKKK i am too sleepy for werdz.
Nate had left the Corps with the intention to never go back, to wash his hands of it and to leave it behind him. There were lots of things he was leaving behind, frustration and anger and big mistakes he didn't like to think about, a flash of grey eyes that haunted him, a hand snatching away, the overwhelming feel of his stomach dropping out.
Fate, it seemed, had different plans for him, plans that definitely involved going back.
The conscription notice came on a Sunday. The letters had sat on the kitchen table, next to his oatmeal and orange juice. He hadn't even looked at the envelope as he'd opened it, eyes fixed on the newspaper. He gets the envelope open, slips out the letter and then he looks, glances down and almost, almost rears back at the words that stand out to him.
You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States.
His hands don't shake as he sets the letter down. He takes a deep sip of orange juice and pushes his chair back. Outside, the sun is rising. The sun is rising and he's going to war again, going to fight against vampires of all fucking things.
He goes back to Recon. It's a little different now, Brad's gone and when he asks Ray, he gets a shrug and Ray refusing to meet his eyes. Walt and Poke are similarly quiet on the subject. Trombley, it seems, legitimately doesn't know anything. Everyone agrees it's not right without Brad, even if they're just sitting around offices in California instead of rolling into Iraq in tin cans. In some ways, Nate is glad, that look still haunting him. He misses him though, the sarcastic remarks, the intelligence, the advice. Mike's not back with him, he's got a boy named Troy instead these days, and it's not quite the same. It's not even nearly the same.
Nate watches Ray shoot a little girl in the head. Nate watches Ray stop the enemy from chewing on Walt's neck. The flinch of remorse in his stomach that he'd once had is still there.
He finds out the truth of Brad's disappearance in battle, when he looks across a warehouse and there is Brad, tall amongst a group of others, eyes fixed on Nate. He follows when Nate cocks his head away from the Marines and the Vampires, the guns and the noise of war, even contained war like this is still impossibly loud.
It's another office, but Brad keeps himself far away this time, tucks himself against the wall and doesn't say anything until Nate does.
"How long?" Nate asks, leans back against a desk and doesn't meet Brad's eyes, not yet, not now.
"Libo," Brad says. He shrugs. "Before Iraq." And that's a shock, that's a punch to the stomach because how did nobody notice, how did Nate not notice.
"They'll kill you if you go back out there," he says, changes the subject because he's choking on the other one. "Not Ray or Poke but, there's new guys, there's Trombley. He hates-"
"Maybe that's what I want," Brad says, voice soft and so not like Brad at all that it's another punch to the guts, it feels like the air is too thin to breathe now. He finally meets Brad's gaze, and it's nothing like the look that won't leave him alone.
He tries not to think that he's harbouring an enemy, he calls it giving a friend a place to stay instead. Coincidentally, that friend just so happens to be a vampire. The war isn't over, won't be over for a long time, but Brad's more like himself in Nate's space, more like the man that Nate used to know and, that, at least, is worth something more than politics.