Fic: Iron Brigade (Demyx, Xigbar, worksafe)
...I should probably disclaim that, for all AU Week pieces, my accuracy is likely to be 'as much research as I can do in ten minutes on wikipedia.' Just so you know. ;)
Iron Brigade
He'd gone because Sergeant Braig was marginally less scary than the rebs-with-guns. But only marginally. AU.
Kingdom Hearts, Demyx, Xigbar. 500 words.
Worksafe.
It was real peculiar to be separated from the rest of the fife and drum corps. Many of the men there were really boys, like Private Demyx, not old enough to sign on in one of the actual battalions, and he'd felt -- well, not really at home, home was the farm outside Biddeford, but as close to home as he was like to get till the war was over and done. But after the Wilderness, he'd been separated from his corps and wound up with the Fifth Corps of the Army of the Potomac, where the men were men and not boys, and battle-hardened men at that.
More to the point, the much-older-and-scarier Sergeant Braig had grabbed him pretty much by the scruff of his neck after his brigade got scattered, and dragged him out of harm's way, and he'd gone because Sergeant Braig was marginally less scary than the rebs-with-guns who might find him if he didn't attach himself to some company or other. But only marginally, he thought as he sat gnawing on a piece of hardtack and watching the sergeant clean his rifle. Braig was missing an eye and had so many scars he looked like he might've tried to take on the Army of North Virginia all by his own self, and his voice had the hard twang that said he was from New York -- which meant they were both a long way from home, and that was a bit of a comfort. Between them, over the fire, boiled a pot of coffee that had been bubbling there for so long Demyx was pretty sure it could eat the bottom out of the pot clean through by now.
"This ain't no place for a kid like you," Braig said, sighting along his rifle. "You ever hold a gun before?"
"Yessir," Demyx said. Braig laughed.
"Save the 'sir' for if you wind up talkin' to Lieutenant Ansem," he said, "he's the one who'll appreciate it. What I mean to say is, you ever hold a gun with intent to kill a man?"
Demyx swallowed. "No, sergeant."
"Then you better learn quick, 'cause this ain't a place for a kid like you, but here you are anyway." Braig passed the rifle to him. "Show me how you'd hold it."
Demyx raised it to his shoulder. Braig laughed so hard he nearly kicked the coffee into the fire -- which probably wouldn't have done anything but improve its flavor. "You do got a nice steady hand, kid, but you need to not hold it like it's a snake about to come round and bite you. This thing'll be your best friend when we get to Cold Harbor."
Demyx swallowed. "I don't -- I mean -- "
"Don't worry," Braig said. "I know you wasn't trained for this, but I got no good way to get you safe back to your corps, so you'll be better off here with the Iron Brigade. I'll take good care of you."
Iron Brigade
He'd gone because Sergeant Braig was marginally less scary than the rebs-with-guns. But only marginally. AU.
Kingdom Hearts, Demyx, Xigbar. 500 words.
Worksafe.
It was real peculiar to be separated from the rest of the fife and drum corps. Many of the men there were really boys, like Private Demyx, not old enough to sign on in one of the actual battalions, and he'd felt -- well, not really at home, home was the farm outside Biddeford, but as close to home as he was like to get till the war was over and done. But after the Wilderness, he'd been separated from his corps and wound up with the Fifth Corps of the Army of the Potomac, where the men were men and not boys, and battle-hardened men at that.
More to the point, the much-older-and-scarier Sergeant Braig had grabbed him pretty much by the scruff of his neck after his brigade got scattered, and dragged him out of harm's way, and he'd gone because Sergeant Braig was marginally less scary than the rebs-with-guns who might find him if he didn't attach himself to some company or other. But only marginally, he thought as he sat gnawing on a piece of hardtack and watching the sergeant clean his rifle. Braig was missing an eye and had so many scars he looked like he might've tried to take on the Army of North Virginia all by his own self, and his voice had the hard twang that said he was from New York -- which meant they were both a long way from home, and that was a bit of a comfort. Between them, over the fire, boiled a pot of coffee that had been bubbling there for so long Demyx was pretty sure it could eat the bottom out of the pot clean through by now.
"This ain't no place for a kid like you," Braig said, sighting along his rifle. "You ever hold a gun before?"
"Yessir," Demyx said. Braig laughed.
"Save the 'sir' for if you wind up talkin' to Lieutenant Ansem," he said, "he's the one who'll appreciate it. What I mean to say is, you ever hold a gun with intent to kill a man?"
Demyx swallowed. "No, sergeant."
"Then you better learn quick, 'cause this ain't a place for a kid like you, but here you are anyway." Braig passed the rifle to him. "Show me how you'd hold it."
Demyx raised it to his shoulder. Braig laughed so hard he nearly kicked the coffee into the fire -- which probably wouldn't have done anything but improve its flavor. "You do got a nice steady hand, kid, but you need to not hold it like it's a snake about to come round and bite you. This thing'll be your best friend when we get to Cold Harbor."
Demyx swallowed. "I don't -- I mean -- "
"Don't worry," Braig said. "I know you wasn't trained for this, but I got no good way to get you safe back to your corps, so you'll be better off here with the Iron Brigade. I'll take good care of you."