003 | Video | Broadcast Mind
Fate dealt you some bad cards. But you don't have to fold and leave the table. Not like this.
[You stand by the window, contemplating the snow outside and your own bandaged reflection. It's been months since Stalker and Scarlett left you with the above words. Months since you nearly burned alive in that crashing Huey and turned this recovery ward into your new home. You survived that ordeal. But you lost two of the biggest things people take for granted. Lost them beyond all hope of complete restoration. And you wallowed in self-pity for it.]
[You've had many long days and nights to think about your future. Most times, your soul-searching ended in the easy way out. Holding a gun to your temple and letting go wouldn't be so bad. Three years among the Arashikage taught you such an act would preserve what dignity you have left. Besides: no one would miss a vet from a war nobody had wanted in the first place. Let alone a mute disfigured vet.]
[Other times, your soul-searching ended with collecting on the debt Uncle Sam owes you. They're offering early retirement for grunts who get as messed up as you have. Why shouldn't you take them up on a full disability pension? You've more than earned it. You can go back to your cottage in the High Sierras and pretty much lock yourself away. From people and from all the violence and loss that being around them inevitably leads to.]
[And then sometimes... just sometimes... it ended with you rejoining the fray. Rising above your losses and coming back stronger than ever. Using the best of everything you've learned, of soldier and shinobi alike, to keep the bullies at bay and stand up for the little guy. It's your driving purpose in life and you're very good at it. But that way lies madness and the potential of losing yourself forever in a living death.]
[None of these decisions are easy to make. But make one you'll have to. So which will it be?]
[There is a knock. You see Stalker and Scarlett reflected in the glass. It's the latter, box in her arms, who speaks first.]
Hey.
[You don't turn to face them. To face her. Saving her did this to you and she knows it. You don't blame her for that, but you don't trust the look in your eyes to tell her so. The pain and rage you've seen there in your darkest moments could all too easily be misinterpreted. If she's going to take your silence to mean you do in fact blame her, that's a weight you're willing to carry.]
Special delivery from the Pit. Hawk said you wanted this.
[She sets the box down on the table behind you. You turn now, deftly undoing the masking tape as Stalker goes next.]
Look, man. This is the last thing I've got to say. We took an oath when we joined this team. A promise to help protect people and the American way of life. Being here is the best thing you can do to help the helpless. It's what you've always tried to do.
[You reach in and unfurl a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt. The kind snake eaters like you swear by for night ops. You slip it on.]
[It... fits. In a way beyond the mere physical. Scarlett continues.]
God knows you've been through a lot. You've been hurt more than anyone I've ever known. And if you stay, you could be hurt even more. But if you stay, you can help prevent anyone else from being hurt like you have. Isn't that worth the risk?
[Her hand rests gently on your shoulder. Warm. Soft. Alive. Acceptant.]
Also, if you stay... I promise you'll never be alone again.
[Loving.]
[You meet her eyes now as you look over your shoulder. And that's when you realize you want to go on living. Really living in the best way you know how. You want to keep right on fighting and taking the worst this banged-up world throws at you, and then some. It doesn't matter. As long as she's there to see you through.]
[It's awhile before you reply. Behind your bandages, your lips move as you try to put thoughts into words. The quick bolt of pain lancing down your throat kills the attempt. Months of recovering in this ward and you still forget you don't have a voice anymore. So you take up the pen and notepad by your bedside and scribble. Two letters are all you need.]
[Scarlett stares at what you've written in astonishment. In elation, high hopes, and a mended heart that up until this moment had been in danger of breaking. Stalker regards her inquisitively while you don the mask and visor that came with the shirt. You've given yourself a face you can look at in the mirror. And one the enemy will remember you by. ]
What does it say?
[You stand by the window, contemplating the snow outside and your own bandaged reflection. It's been months since Stalker and Scarlett left you with the above words. Months since you nearly burned alive in that crashing Huey and turned this recovery ward into your new home. You survived that ordeal. But you lost two of the biggest things people take for granted. Lost them beyond all hope of complete restoration. And you wallowed in self-pity for it.]
[You've had many long days and nights to think about your future. Most times, your soul-searching ended in the easy way out. Holding a gun to your temple and letting go wouldn't be so bad. Three years among the Arashikage taught you such an act would preserve what dignity you have left. Besides: no one would miss a vet from a war nobody had wanted in the first place. Let alone a mute disfigured vet.]
[Other times, your soul-searching ended with collecting on the debt Uncle Sam owes you. They're offering early retirement for grunts who get as messed up as you have. Why shouldn't you take them up on a full disability pension? You've more than earned it. You can go back to your cottage in the High Sierras and pretty much lock yourself away. From people and from all the violence and loss that being around them inevitably leads to.]
[And then sometimes... just sometimes... it ended with you rejoining the fray. Rising above your losses and coming back stronger than ever. Using the best of everything you've learned, of soldier and shinobi alike, to keep the bullies at bay and stand up for the little guy. It's your driving purpose in life and you're very good at it. But that way lies madness and the potential of losing yourself forever in a living death.]
[None of these decisions are easy to make. But make one you'll have to. So which will it be?]
[There is a knock. You see Stalker and Scarlett reflected in the glass. It's the latter, box in her arms, who speaks first.]
Hey.
[You don't turn to face them. To face her. Saving her did this to you and she knows it. You don't blame her for that, but you don't trust the look in your eyes to tell her so. The pain and rage you've seen there in your darkest moments could all too easily be misinterpreted. If she's going to take your silence to mean you do in fact blame her, that's a weight you're willing to carry.]
Special delivery from the Pit. Hawk said you wanted this.
[She sets the box down on the table behind you. You turn now, deftly undoing the masking tape as Stalker goes next.]
Look, man. This is the last thing I've got to say. We took an oath when we joined this team. A promise to help protect people and the American way of life. Being here is the best thing you can do to help the helpless. It's what you've always tried to do.
[You reach in and unfurl a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt. The kind snake eaters like you swear by for night ops. You slip it on.]
[It... fits. In a way beyond the mere physical. Scarlett continues.]
God knows you've been through a lot. You've been hurt more than anyone I've ever known. And if you stay, you could be hurt even more. But if you stay, you can help prevent anyone else from being hurt like you have. Isn't that worth the risk?
[Her hand rests gently on your shoulder. Warm. Soft. Alive. Acceptant.]
Also, if you stay... I promise you'll never be alone again.
[Loving.]
[You meet her eyes now as you look over your shoulder. And that's when you realize you want to go on living. Really living in the best way you know how. You want to keep right on fighting and taking the worst this banged-up world throws at you, and then some. It doesn't matter. As long as she's there to see you through.]
[It's awhile before you reply. Behind your bandages, your lips move as you try to put thoughts into words. The quick bolt of pain lancing down your throat kills the attempt. Months of recovering in this ward and you still forget you don't have a voice anymore. So you take up the pen and notepad by your bedside and scribble. Two letters are all you need.]
[Scarlett stares at what you've written in astonishment. In elation, high hopes, and a mended heart that up until this moment had been in danger of breaking. Stalker regards her inquisitively while you don the mask and visor that came with the shirt. You've given yourself a face you can look at in the mirror. And one the enemy will remember you by. ]
What does it say?
