BoB Fic: Souls at War - Part 2/3
Something in Lipton’s chest hurt at the sight of them.
Operation Market Garden had gone to hell and here they were focused on nothing but each other.
The ping of metal on metal was loud in what seemed like a moment of silence.
“Nix!”
Captain Winters was by Nixon’s side in an instant, Cyrilla tackling Valonia as she screeched down from her perch on the transport truck.
Winters’ knuckles went white in Nixon’s jacket and he pulled the other man closer. Cyrilla tucked her nose against Valonia’s neck, pulling the falcon closer with the same desperation as Winters had.
Lipton felt like he shouldn’t have seen it and he tightened his hand in Apollo’s fur, the daemon nudging him in the thigh.
Nixon was fine, but it had been close, and from what he’d seen from Winters it had been too close. Lipton knew that if they lost Nixon they would be losing not only their intelligence officer but their Captain as well.
He could only hope to have something even close to what they had someday.
- - -
He hated the snow, but Apollo seemed downright miserable.
They had a foxhole to themselves, but sometimes Lipton wondered if it would be better to share. They would have more body heat that way. He was a platoon leader though, and he wasn’t as in with the men as Buck.
Apollo told him differently, but he felt like he would be encroaching on some unwritten rule if he tried to do too much. He kept morale up and made sure the men were taken care of. They didn’t need a commanding officer that tried to be like them.
They’d lost men here in the snow and Doc Roe seemed to be stretched thin, almost too thin. So when Lipton made his rounds he was glad to see that the medic wasn’t alone.
Roe was curled in his foxhole with his otter daemon, Colette balled up in his lap and Babe curled into his side. Adara, Babe’s sparrow could barely be seen from where she was tucked in the soldier’s jacket. At least they looked warm.
Muck and Pincala were in another hole further back and Buck and Malarkey were in the foxhole right next to them.
Apollo laughed at the sight of their fellow officer.
Malarkey was curled practically in Buck’s lap with Nali and Aden wrapped over and around them like living blankets. The coyote and leopard had their tails intertwined over Buck’s legs.
Seemed like everyone was pairing off.
With a heavy sigh Lipton turned to continue his watch, almost running smack into someone as he spun around. Apollo growled a warning as he steadied Lipton from behind before the man could fall over. A hand caught the front of his jacket and pulled him back upright.
“Easy there, Sergeant.”
Lipton steadied himself on the man’s shoulder and looked up into familiar dark eyes.
“Lieutenant Speirs. What are you doing here?”
Speirs chuckled and straightened out Lipton’s jacket collar before pulling away. “Is that any way to speak to your commanding officer Sergeant?”
Apollo sniffed in annoyance and Lipton felt a blush spread across his frozen cheeks. “Sorry, sir. May I ask what you’re doing in our position, sir?”
Speirs shook his head in what seemed like exasperation. “I was teasing, Sergeant. Insubordination is the least of my worries right now. And if you must know Sephry and I were just out for a stroll.”
Lipton raised an eyebrow. “Just strolling a mile or two from your company’s position, sir?”
Sephry huffed a laugh and Speirs frowned down at her. “We like to walk.” He said lamely.
“It’s below freezing, sir. No offense meant, but I doubt even you would enjoy walking around in this kind of weather for no reason.” Lipton answered, choosing his words carefully. This was a commanding officer he was talking to.
“Even me?” Speirs asked. “And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a cold sunofabitch. Sir.” The last was added as an after thought and Lipton was surprised he’d even said it. He’d been thinking that exact thing but saying it aloud was a completely different matter.
He was rewarded with an honest to god smile from the other man.
“That I may be Sergeant, but what makes you think you can say something like that to a superior officer and get away with it?”
The smirk that accompanied those words sent a shiver down Lipton’s spine and heat straight to his gut. Beside him Apollo took in a deep breath before letting it out with a shudder.
What the hell. Two could play this game, and Lipton decided that he’d been the perfect soldier for too long.
“Are you going to Court Martial me, sir?”
Speirs’ shoulders tightened and his hands clenched on the rifle strapped to his chest. Sephry licked her lips and squirmed as if she was about to take flight.
“No Sergeant, I had something a bit different in mind.”
Something sparked between them and Apollo was suddenly on his feet, shooting forward to tackle Sephry to the snow.
Lipton swung his rifle out of the way and reached out as if to touch Speirs, electricity zinging down his spine as Apollo and Sephry rolled over each other.
Speirs moved to meet him halfway when suddenly their world erupted in dirt and mayhem.
“Fuck!” Speirs cursed, the moment broken as they hit the ground. “I have to get back to my company.”
Lipton nodded silently still trying to come to grips with what had almost happened.
“Sephry, let’s go!”
As Speirs stood again he took one last second to look back at Lipton, their eyes meeting in some kind of practiced action before he was gone again; disappearing through scrambling men and trees.
Apollo nudged his hand as Lipton pushed himself to his feet, shouting men running around them.
“What just happened?”
Lipton swung his rifle back around and took a quick glance in the direction Speirs had gone. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I really don’t know.”
A part of him knew exactly what had happened but another part of him, which sounded unnervingly like his father told him that it had been nothing.
He wanted it to have meant something, and if the look on Apollo’s face said anything they were both in the same boat.
They were so fucked.
- - -
Toye and Guarnere had been hit.
Buck hadn’t said a word in two days.
Malarkey hadn’t left Buck’s side.
Doc Roe was getting harsher, growing used to the death and destruction around them.
Babe was growing up.
Muck and Pincala were dead.
Dyke was a ghost.
Winters was pulling apart at the seams.
Nixon couldn’t put him back together.
Their company was fraying, being cut into so many different pieces and then thrown to the wind.
Lipton didn’t know if he could grab them all back.
- - -
He’d known this attack was going to shit before it even started.
Dyke was in charge.
He’d pled his case to Winters, but he’d known there wasn’t much the man could do.
So here they were, running across an empty field into the town of Foy, bodies dropping and daemons disappearing in flashes of gold. Where was Dyke?
Stopped in the middle of the goddamned clearing.
Their platoons were split up and Dyke was shouting something about Foley and ‘where the hell was 1st Platoon?!’
“Fall back!”
Lipton’s head jerked up as Dyke started shouting.
“Fall back! Fall back!”
Their platoon had no choice but to fall back to cover, hunkered down behind mounds of hay as Dyke continued his frantic screaming.
Foley came up beside them and Dyke made his first real decision of the war.
A flanking mission. Alone. What the hell kind of order was that? Foley and his men would be slaughtered.
But no one could say that. To question an order in combat was mutiny.
Foley swore under his breath and Dyke simply sat back, unmoving and refused to say anything else.
Apollo nudged him in the thigh, “Lip we gotta move, they’ll zero in on our position if we stay here too long.”
Lipton nodded and turned back to Dyke’s shaking form. “Sir, we are sitting sucks here. We have to keep moving!”
The man didn’t so much as blink.
There was an explosion of dirt and snow from back near the tree line that drew Lipton’s attention, and his heart shuddered when the debris cleared.
Speirs ran through gunfire and mortars to slide to a stop directly in front of Dyke, grabbing the collar of the man’s uniform. “I’m takin’ over.”
Thank god.
A hand touched his shoulder and Lipton suppressed a shudder as Speirs asked about their status.
Orders were given quickly and then like that Speirs was off again, ordering Lipton and Luz to follow him with Sephry on his heels.
As soon as they were out from behind their cover clods of dirt sprayed up around them, Lipton shouting nonsense about going and moving faster.
Pain slammed into him and Lipton’s breath left him in a rush as a bullet tore through his shoulder. He went down hard.
Apollo shouted for him and he was about to lose himself in pain when warmth suddenly flooded through his body.
Sluggishly opening his eyes he focused on Apollo, hidden from the German’s behind the cover of a building and being held back by Speirs’ arm around his neck. Seconds later Sephry took Speirs’ place as the man abandoned his cover to run back out into the field.
“How you doin’ Sergeant?”
Lipton looked up at his rescuer as Speirs grabbed him under the arms, random bullets peppering the ground around them.
“Been better, sir.” Lipton answered slowly. His shoulder was jarred and he hissed in pain, biting down on his lip as Speirs started to drag him towards the building.
“Just stay with me,” Speirs replied. “Keep up that cover fire, Luz. Almost there!”
Lipton knew the moment they were safe again because Apollo was in his face, nose probing over his body to check the wounds.
Fingers touched his face and he turned into the touch, warmth once again flooding through him.
“Looks like you might have another scar to add to that pretty face, Sergeant.” It seemed one of the stray bullets had caught him across the cheek.
There was a laugh from Luz and a hand touched his uninjured shoulder. “Hopefully your boyfriend likes ‘em marked.”
Apollo snorted in apparent anger and Lipton reached up to thread his hand into the daemon’s fur. “Could you smack him for me, sir?”
Speirs chuckled and there was the sound of a hand hitting combat gear, followed by Luz’s mock cry of pain.
“Thanks Lip, sick the evil guy on me.”
Lipton laughed, before cutting himself off with a groan. “Don’t make me laugh. W-what’ve we got?”
Speirs turned to look around the building, “I don’t see I Company yet. Luz put something on his shoulder to stem the bleeding. I’ll be right back.”
The crunch of boots on snow covered ground drew Lipton’s attention as he turned his head to watch Speirs take off into the German line.
Panic overtook his system and a half formed cry tried to bubble up from his throat. Luz’s hands on his shoulders were the only things keeping him still.
What was that idiot thinking? Sephry hadn’t even gone with him.
“Hang on there Lip, he said he’d be right back so put a little more trust in your man, okay?” Without giving Lipton a chance to reply Luz pushed a gloved hand against the bullet hole in his shoulder.
“Fuck! Little warning next time Luz!” He pulled Apollo down and the daemon stretched out next to him with his head on Lipton’s chest.
Another warmth settled on his other side and he was surprised to see Sephry curled into him as well. People weren’t supposed to touch someone else’s daemons, unless - oh, so that was what Luz had been talking about.
Lipton felt a blush spread across his cheeks as Sephry seemed to snuggle in even closer.
“It’s cold,” she said, as if trying to explain herself. “Ron would kill me if I let you freeze to death while he was away.”
Above them Luz snorted in amusement as he continued to apply steady pressure to Lipton’s shoulder. “Only you could pick the one man in the whole regiment that’s certifiably insane, Lip. Well done.”
Sephry growled a warning but Luz simply chuckled, not worried in the least. “Down girl, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. And, oh look, here comes Mr. Crazy now.”
Lipton turned his head and Sephry jumped to her feet as Speirs skidded to a stop behind the building. He went down on his knees almost immediately, taking a large gulp of air before turning to Luz. “Send your daemon for a medic, and you stay here, make sure he gets that shoulder patched up. I have to check on the others.”
Luz nodded and turned to his daemon, a large Saint Bernard that had been silent until now. “Got it, I’ll bring Roe if I can find him.” And he was off.
Speirs made to stand as well but Lipton caught at his trousers. “Wait, I just-”
“It’s okay, Sergeant. We’ll get you fixed up, don’t worry about it.” Speirs threaded his fingers briefly through Lipton’s before squeezing once and pulling away. Sephry was close on his heels as they ran off into more gunfire.
“He’ll be fine, Lip.” Luz said. “We don’t call him the toughest sunofabitch in the battalion for nothing.”
Lipton nodded absently and Apollo curled tighter against him, both worrying despite Luz’s words.
Moments later and Lipton finally let himself be drug under by the pain and blood loss. Maybe it would stop snowing by the time he woke up.
- - -
Lipton looked up from his spot at the back of the church when Apollo growled low in his throat.
The figure approaching them solidified into Speirs and Apollo visibly relaxed, haunches going down as he settled back into his position on the floor beside Lipton’s pew.
“That’s a fine looking guard dog you got there, Sergeant.” Speirs circled around behind the pew to lean against the back of it.
Apollo snorted, “Not a dog, Lieutenant. I thought even you’d be able to tell the difference. Especially having a dog of your own.”
Sephry tried and failed to smother a laugh and Lipton covered his own smile with a gloved hand.
Speirs glared at all of them. “Go ahead and gang up on me now. Just wait until I find the most mundane job for you to do. You’re under my command now, my word is law.”
It was said with just enough sincerity that for a moment Lipton thought he was being serious. Though there was a spark in those dark eyes when Speirs looked at him that put his thoughts at ease.
Lipton shifted his wounded arm into a more comfortable position and met those eyes head on. “So what are your orders, sir?” He asked, making his own voice as stoic as he could manage.
Sephry stiffened and Lipton watched as Speirs’ knuckles went white on the top of the pew.
“Are you sure you want the answer to that question, Sergeant?” Speirs asked, his voice choked with the strain of remaining clinically detached.
Lipton put a hand on Apollo’s neck and felt the tension in his daemon. Apollo was barely holding himself back, waiting for some kind of permission from Lipton before he made a move.
Refusing to take his eyes from Speirs’ face Lipton answered truthfully, “Yes, sir.”
Without another moment’s hesitation Speirs leaned forward, grabbing Lipton’s chin between rifle callused finger and dragging their lips together in the first real kiss of Lipton’s life.
Apollo vaulted the pew and had Sephry pinned under him, their noses memorizing each other’s faces.
Lipton sighed in absolute contentment, his good hand moving to thread into Speirs’ hair and pull the man closer. He wanted more, wanted to lose himself in the feeling of completeness.
It was like finding a piece of himself he didn’t know was missing.
Reluctantly they both drew back for air, resting their foreheads together and refusing to pull further apart. Feeling each other’s skin, breathing each other’s air. It was hard to tell where one soul started and the other began.
They had become one and the same.
“Didn’t really answer my question, sir.” Lipton panted, his arm now wrapped around Speirs’ neck.
Speirs laughed quietly and bumped their noses together in a way similar to what Apollo and Sephry had done earlier. “Would you like me to tell you again?”
Apollo huffed from somewhere on the floor, Sephry whining in response.
Lipton chuckled, “I guess that’s a yes then, sir.”
“Good, maybe this time I’ll just have to be a little more forward.”
Lipton pulled him down again and reconnected their mouths, souls twisting and curling together.
- - -
He hated being sick.
He was shivering, it was hard to breathe, and every time he coughed he felt like his lungs were going to come up his throat.
He did have a couch at battalion CP though, and Apollo was curled over his legs in an attempt to share body heat.
The sound of boots on the floor made him look up. He knew it wasn’t Speirs, his own soul hadn’t resonated like it seemed to in the other man’s presence, but he could always hope.
Instead it was Webster.
“Webster, when’d you get back?”
“Just now, sir.” Webster answered, a small half smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Hospital just released me.”
Lipton was about to ask how the reprieve had been when Luz came in carrying a blanket that he proceeded to throw over Lipton’s lower body. Apollo relocated himself with a huff before the blanket could cover him as well.
“Speirs will have your ass if you don’t get better soon Lip, and who do you think he’ll blame for it?”
Lipton’s reply was cut off again when Webster asked what was wrong.
“Pneumonia,” Luz answered. “Been out in the cold for too long and not takin’ care of himself.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Webster answered, sending a sympathetic glance in Lipton’s direction.
Luz chuckled as he headed back towards the door. “Don’t be. He’s alive, got a couch, a goddamn blanket. Snug as a bug. Now all we need is for Speirs to get him to lay down before the medics ship him off to an aid station.”
“How long have you been sick?” Webster asked, taking a seat as his squirrel monkey poking her head out from the back of his jacket.
“Long enough,” Lipton sighed, and Apollo reclaimed his spot on the couch.
More boots on the floor and Lipton turned to watch a soldier walk in that seemed barely old enough to shave, let alone be in combat on this side of the ocean. His daemon, a German Sheppard, looked serious enough but Lipton had gotten used to looking at replacement daemons. This one was nervous.
“Is this the company CP for Easy?”
“Yes, sir.” Lipton answered, and for a moment it looked like the kid wanted to say something else.
“Lieutenant Jones, looking for Captain Speirs.”
Lieutenant? That was a surprise. “He’s on his way. Why don’t you have a seat, sir.”
Apollo shifted in his spot moments before more people entered the room, and this time Lipton’s soul shook.
Speirs came in laden with more souvenirs, followed closely by Sephry and Luz as he deposited his collection on a nearby table. He straightened and looked at Lipton with his hands on his hips.
‘Here it comes,’ Lipton thought sarcastically.
“Jesus Lip, why aren’t you in bed? My bed’s warm and you need to rest. Now go sack out so you can get better.”
“I will, sir.” Lipton answered, turning to the papers in his hands, but he honestly couldn’t remember why he had them.
“Not going to work, Sergeant. You go now or I carry you across CP to make sure you get there.”
Apollo huffed out a laugh and Lipton glared at him before meeting Speirs’ eyes defiantly. “I’ll go when I’m done, sir.”
Speirs’ mouth twisted into a smirk and Lipton thought about what he had just gotten himself into.
Hastily nudging Apollo aside Speirs flung Lipton’s blanket away before grabbing the Sergeant under the arms, being careful of the still healing bullet wound as he threw the man over his own shoulder.
Jones looked slightly mortified.
Webster had the gall to laugh.
“Sir! Speirs put me down!” This was humiliating. But the warmth flooding through his body was not an unwelcome feeling.
Speirs chuckled and patted Lipton’s thigh as he headed for the rear door of CP. “Don’t worry Lip, everyone knows I’m just looking out for Easy’s mother.”
“Are we interrupting something?” The voice was female and sounded exasperated with just a touch of fond laughter.
Speirs slowly set Lipton down, leaving an arm wrapped around his waist to keep the man balanced as they turned to greet Winters and Nixon as the men came in. Cyrilla just shook her head.
“No, sir.” Speirs replied. “Just taking care of one of my officers, sir.”
Nixon actually laughed as he exchanged a glance with Winters and Valonia puffed out her feathers from where she sat perched on his shoulder.
Winters smiled and shrugged as if he hadn’t just seen two of his men playing like school children. “Carry on then, Lieutenant but I need to talk with you when you’re finished.”
Speirs nodded and snapped off a salute before he resumed his task of getting Lipton into a bed.
Next Part
Operation Market Garden had gone to hell and here they were focused on nothing but each other.
The ping of metal on metal was loud in what seemed like a moment of silence.
“Nix!”
Captain Winters was by Nixon’s side in an instant, Cyrilla tackling Valonia as she screeched down from her perch on the transport truck.
Winters’ knuckles went white in Nixon’s jacket and he pulled the other man closer. Cyrilla tucked her nose against Valonia’s neck, pulling the falcon closer with the same desperation as Winters had.
Lipton felt like he shouldn’t have seen it and he tightened his hand in Apollo’s fur, the daemon nudging him in the thigh.
Nixon was fine, but it had been close, and from what he’d seen from Winters it had been too close. Lipton knew that if they lost Nixon they would be losing not only their intelligence officer but their Captain as well.
He could only hope to have something even close to what they had someday.
- - -
He hated the snow, but Apollo seemed downright miserable.
They had a foxhole to themselves, but sometimes Lipton wondered if it would be better to share. They would have more body heat that way. He was a platoon leader though, and he wasn’t as in with the men as Buck.
Apollo told him differently, but he felt like he would be encroaching on some unwritten rule if he tried to do too much. He kept morale up and made sure the men were taken care of. They didn’t need a commanding officer that tried to be like them.
They’d lost men here in the snow and Doc Roe seemed to be stretched thin, almost too thin. So when Lipton made his rounds he was glad to see that the medic wasn’t alone.
Roe was curled in his foxhole with his otter daemon, Colette balled up in his lap and Babe curled into his side. Adara, Babe’s sparrow could barely be seen from where she was tucked in the soldier’s jacket. At least they looked warm.
Muck and Pincala were in another hole further back and Buck and Malarkey were in the foxhole right next to them.
Apollo laughed at the sight of their fellow officer.
Malarkey was curled practically in Buck’s lap with Nali and Aden wrapped over and around them like living blankets. The coyote and leopard had their tails intertwined over Buck’s legs.
Seemed like everyone was pairing off.
With a heavy sigh Lipton turned to continue his watch, almost running smack into someone as he spun around. Apollo growled a warning as he steadied Lipton from behind before the man could fall over. A hand caught the front of his jacket and pulled him back upright.
“Easy there, Sergeant.”
Lipton steadied himself on the man’s shoulder and looked up into familiar dark eyes.
“Lieutenant Speirs. What are you doing here?”
Speirs chuckled and straightened out Lipton’s jacket collar before pulling away. “Is that any way to speak to your commanding officer Sergeant?”
Apollo sniffed in annoyance and Lipton felt a blush spread across his frozen cheeks. “Sorry, sir. May I ask what you’re doing in our position, sir?”
Speirs shook his head in what seemed like exasperation. “I was teasing, Sergeant. Insubordination is the least of my worries right now. And if you must know Sephry and I were just out for a stroll.”
Lipton raised an eyebrow. “Just strolling a mile or two from your company’s position, sir?”
Sephry huffed a laugh and Speirs frowned down at her. “We like to walk.” He said lamely.
“It’s below freezing, sir. No offense meant, but I doubt even you would enjoy walking around in this kind of weather for no reason.” Lipton answered, choosing his words carefully. This was a commanding officer he was talking to.
“Even me?” Speirs asked. “And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a cold sunofabitch. Sir.” The last was added as an after thought and Lipton was surprised he’d even said it. He’d been thinking that exact thing but saying it aloud was a completely different matter.
He was rewarded with an honest to god smile from the other man.
“That I may be Sergeant, but what makes you think you can say something like that to a superior officer and get away with it?”
The smirk that accompanied those words sent a shiver down Lipton’s spine and heat straight to his gut. Beside him Apollo took in a deep breath before letting it out with a shudder.
What the hell. Two could play this game, and Lipton decided that he’d been the perfect soldier for too long.
“Are you going to Court Martial me, sir?”
Speirs’ shoulders tightened and his hands clenched on the rifle strapped to his chest. Sephry licked her lips and squirmed as if she was about to take flight.
“No Sergeant, I had something a bit different in mind.”
Something sparked between them and Apollo was suddenly on his feet, shooting forward to tackle Sephry to the snow.
Lipton swung his rifle out of the way and reached out as if to touch Speirs, electricity zinging down his spine as Apollo and Sephry rolled over each other.
Speirs moved to meet him halfway when suddenly their world erupted in dirt and mayhem.
“Fuck!” Speirs cursed, the moment broken as they hit the ground. “I have to get back to my company.”
Lipton nodded silently still trying to come to grips with what had almost happened.
“Sephry, let’s go!”
As Speirs stood again he took one last second to look back at Lipton, their eyes meeting in some kind of practiced action before he was gone again; disappearing through scrambling men and trees.
Apollo nudged his hand as Lipton pushed himself to his feet, shouting men running around them.
“What just happened?”
Lipton swung his rifle back around and took a quick glance in the direction Speirs had gone. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I really don’t know.”
A part of him knew exactly what had happened but another part of him, which sounded unnervingly like his father told him that it had been nothing.
He wanted it to have meant something, and if the look on Apollo’s face said anything they were both in the same boat.
They were so fucked.
- - -
Toye and Guarnere had been hit.
Buck hadn’t said a word in two days.
Malarkey hadn’t left Buck’s side.
Doc Roe was getting harsher, growing used to the death and destruction around them.
Babe was growing up.
Muck and Pincala were dead.
Dyke was a ghost.
Winters was pulling apart at the seams.
Nixon couldn’t put him back together.
Their company was fraying, being cut into so many different pieces and then thrown to the wind.
Lipton didn’t know if he could grab them all back.
- - -
He’d known this attack was going to shit before it even started.
Dyke was in charge.
He’d pled his case to Winters, but he’d known there wasn’t much the man could do.
So here they were, running across an empty field into the town of Foy, bodies dropping and daemons disappearing in flashes of gold. Where was Dyke?
Stopped in the middle of the goddamned clearing.
Their platoons were split up and Dyke was shouting something about Foley and ‘where the hell was 1st Platoon?!’
“Fall back!”
Lipton’s head jerked up as Dyke started shouting.
“Fall back! Fall back!”
Their platoon had no choice but to fall back to cover, hunkered down behind mounds of hay as Dyke continued his frantic screaming.
Foley came up beside them and Dyke made his first real decision of the war.
A flanking mission. Alone. What the hell kind of order was that? Foley and his men would be slaughtered.
But no one could say that. To question an order in combat was mutiny.
Foley swore under his breath and Dyke simply sat back, unmoving and refused to say anything else.
Apollo nudged him in the thigh, “Lip we gotta move, they’ll zero in on our position if we stay here too long.”
Lipton nodded and turned back to Dyke’s shaking form. “Sir, we are sitting sucks here. We have to keep moving!”
The man didn’t so much as blink.
There was an explosion of dirt and snow from back near the tree line that drew Lipton’s attention, and his heart shuddered when the debris cleared.
Speirs ran through gunfire and mortars to slide to a stop directly in front of Dyke, grabbing the collar of the man’s uniform. “I’m takin’ over.”
Thank god.
A hand touched his shoulder and Lipton suppressed a shudder as Speirs asked about their status.
Orders were given quickly and then like that Speirs was off again, ordering Lipton and Luz to follow him with Sephry on his heels.
As soon as they were out from behind their cover clods of dirt sprayed up around them, Lipton shouting nonsense about going and moving faster.
Pain slammed into him and Lipton’s breath left him in a rush as a bullet tore through his shoulder. He went down hard.
Apollo shouted for him and he was about to lose himself in pain when warmth suddenly flooded through his body.
Sluggishly opening his eyes he focused on Apollo, hidden from the German’s behind the cover of a building and being held back by Speirs’ arm around his neck. Seconds later Sephry took Speirs’ place as the man abandoned his cover to run back out into the field.
“How you doin’ Sergeant?”
Lipton looked up at his rescuer as Speirs grabbed him under the arms, random bullets peppering the ground around them.
“Been better, sir.” Lipton answered slowly. His shoulder was jarred and he hissed in pain, biting down on his lip as Speirs started to drag him towards the building.
“Just stay with me,” Speirs replied. “Keep up that cover fire, Luz. Almost there!”
Lipton knew the moment they were safe again because Apollo was in his face, nose probing over his body to check the wounds.
Fingers touched his face and he turned into the touch, warmth once again flooding through him.
“Looks like you might have another scar to add to that pretty face, Sergeant.” It seemed one of the stray bullets had caught him across the cheek.
There was a laugh from Luz and a hand touched his uninjured shoulder. “Hopefully your boyfriend likes ‘em marked.”
Apollo snorted in apparent anger and Lipton reached up to thread his hand into the daemon’s fur. “Could you smack him for me, sir?”
Speirs chuckled and there was the sound of a hand hitting combat gear, followed by Luz’s mock cry of pain.
“Thanks Lip, sick the evil guy on me.”
Lipton laughed, before cutting himself off with a groan. “Don’t make me laugh. W-what’ve we got?”
Speirs turned to look around the building, “I don’t see I Company yet. Luz put something on his shoulder to stem the bleeding. I’ll be right back.”
The crunch of boots on snow covered ground drew Lipton’s attention as he turned his head to watch Speirs take off into the German line.
Panic overtook his system and a half formed cry tried to bubble up from his throat. Luz’s hands on his shoulders were the only things keeping him still.
What was that idiot thinking? Sephry hadn’t even gone with him.
“Hang on there Lip, he said he’d be right back so put a little more trust in your man, okay?” Without giving Lipton a chance to reply Luz pushed a gloved hand against the bullet hole in his shoulder.
“Fuck! Little warning next time Luz!” He pulled Apollo down and the daemon stretched out next to him with his head on Lipton’s chest.
Another warmth settled on his other side and he was surprised to see Sephry curled into him as well. People weren’t supposed to touch someone else’s daemons, unless - oh, so that was what Luz had been talking about.
Lipton felt a blush spread across his cheeks as Sephry seemed to snuggle in even closer.
“It’s cold,” she said, as if trying to explain herself. “Ron would kill me if I let you freeze to death while he was away.”
Above them Luz snorted in amusement as he continued to apply steady pressure to Lipton’s shoulder. “Only you could pick the one man in the whole regiment that’s certifiably insane, Lip. Well done.”
Sephry growled a warning but Luz simply chuckled, not worried in the least. “Down girl, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. And, oh look, here comes Mr. Crazy now.”
Lipton turned his head and Sephry jumped to her feet as Speirs skidded to a stop behind the building. He went down on his knees almost immediately, taking a large gulp of air before turning to Luz. “Send your daemon for a medic, and you stay here, make sure he gets that shoulder patched up. I have to check on the others.”
Luz nodded and turned to his daemon, a large Saint Bernard that had been silent until now. “Got it, I’ll bring Roe if I can find him.” And he was off.
Speirs made to stand as well but Lipton caught at his trousers. “Wait, I just-”
“It’s okay, Sergeant. We’ll get you fixed up, don’t worry about it.” Speirs threaded his fingers briefly through Lipton’s before squeezing once and pulling away. Sephry was close on his heels as they ran off into more gunfire.
“He’ll be fine, Lip.” Luz said. “We don’t call him the toughest sunofabitch in the battalion for nothing.”
Lipton nodded absently and Apollo curled tighter against him, both worrying despite Luz’s words.
Moments later and Lipton finally let himself be drug under by the pain and blood loss. Maybe it would stop snowing by the time he woke up.
- - -
Lipton looked up from his spot at the back of the church when Apollo growled low in his throat.
The figure approaching them solidified into Speirs and Apollo visibly relaxed, haunches going down as he settled back into his position on the floor beside Lipton’s pew.
“That’s a fine looking guard dog you got there, Sergeant.” Speirs circled around behind the pew to lean against the back of it.
Apollo snorted, “Not a dog, Lieutenant. I thought even you’d be able to tell the difference. Especially having a dog of your own.”
Sephry tried and failed to smother a laugh and Lipton covered his own smile with a gloved hand.
Speirs glared at all of them. “Go ahead and gang up on me now. Just wait until I find the most mundane job for you to do. You’re under my command now, my word is law.”
It was said with just enough sincerity that for a moment Lipton thought he was being serious. Though there was a spark in those dark eyes when Speirs looked at him that put his thoughts at ease.
Lipton shifted his wounded arm into a more comfortable position and met those eyes head on. “So what are your orders, sir?” He asked, making his own voice as stoic as he could manage.
Sephry stiffened and Lipton watched as Speirs’ knuckles went white on the top of the pew.
“Are you sure you want the answer to that question, Sergeant?” Speirs asked, his voice choked with the strain of remaining clinically detached.
Lipton put a hand on Apollo’s neck and felt the tension in his daemon. Apollo was barely holding himself back, waiting for some kind of permission from Lipton before he made a move.
Refusing to take his eyes from Speirs’ face Lipton answered truthfully, “Yes, sir.”
Without another moment’s hesitation Speirs leaned forward, grabbing Lipton’s chin between rifle callused finger and dragging their lips together in the first real kiss of Lipton’s life.
Apollo vaulted the pew and had Sephry pinned under him, their noses memorizing each other’s faces.
Lipton sighed in absolute contentment, his good hand moving to thread into Speirs’ hair and pull the man closer. He wanted more, wanted to lose himself in the feeling of completeness.
It was like finding a piece of himself he didn’t know was missing.
Reluctantly they both drew back for air, resting their foreheads together and refusing to pull further apart. Feeling each other’s skin, breathing each other’s air. It was hard to tell where one soul started and the other began.
They had become one and the same.
“Didn’t really answer my question, sir.” Lipton panted, his arm now wrapped around Speirs’ neck.
Speirs laughed quietly and bumped their noses together in a way similar to what Apollo and Sephry had done earlier. “Would you like me to tell you again?”
Apollo huffed from somewhere on the floor, Sephry whining in response.
Lipton chuckled, “I guess that’s a yes then, sir.”
“Good, maybe this time I’ll just have to be a little more forward.”
Lipton pulled him down again and reconnected their mouths, souls twisting and curling together.
- - -
He hated being sick.
He was shivering, it was hard to breathe, and every time he coughed he felt like his lungs were going to come up his throat.
He did have a couch at battalion CP though, and Apollo was curled over his legs in an attempt to share body heat.
The sound of boots on the floor made him look up. He knew it wasn’t Speirs, his own soul hadn’t resonated like it seemed to in the other man’s presence, but he could always hope.
Instead it was Webster.
“Webster, when’d you get back?”
“Just now, sir.” Webster answered, a small half smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Hospital just released me.”
Lipton was about to ask how the reprieve had been when Luz came in carrying a blanket that he proceeded to throw over Lipton’s lower body. Apollo relocated himself with a huff before the blanket could cover him as well.
“Speirs will have your ass if you don’t get better soon Lip, and who do you think he’ll blame for it?”
Lipton’s reply was cut off again when Webster asked what was wrong.
“Pneumonia,” Luz answered. “Been out in the cold for too long and not takin’ care of himself.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Webster answered, sending a sympathetic glance in Lipton’s direction.
Luz chuckled as he headed back towards the door. “Don’t be. He’s alive, got a couch, a goddamn blanket. Snug as a bug. Now all we need is for Speirs to get him to lay down before the medics ship him off to an aid station.”
“How long have you been sick?” Webster asked, taking a seat as his squirrel monkey poking her head out from the back of his jacket.
“Long enough,” Lipton sighed, and Apollo reclaimed his spot on the couch.
More boots on the floor and Lipton turned to watch a soldier walk in that seemed barely old enough to shave, let alone be in combat on this side of the ocean. His daemon, a German Sheppard, looked serious enough but Lipton had gotten used to looking at replacement daemons. This one was nervous.
“Is this the company CP for Easy?”
“Yes, sir.” Lipton answered, and for a moment it looked like the kid wanted to say something else.
“Lieutenant Jones, looking for Captain Speirs.”
Lieutenant? That was a surprise. “He’s on his way. Why don’t you have a seat, sir.”
Apollo shifted in his spot moments before more people entered the room, and this time Lipton’s soul shook.
Speirs came in laden with more souvenirs, followed closely by Sephry and Luz as he deposited his collection on a nearby table. He straightened and looked at Lipton with his hands on his hips.
‘Here it comes,’ Lipton thought sarcastically.
“Jesus Lip, why aren’t you in bed? My bed’s warm and you need to rest. Now go sack out so you can get better.”
“I will, sir.” Lipton answered, turning to the papers in his hands, but he honestly couldn’t remember why he had them.
“Not going to work, Sergeant. You go now or I carry you across CP to make sure you get there.”
Apollo huffed out a laugh and Lipton glared at him before meeting Speirs’ eyes defiantly. “I’ll go when I’m done, sir.”
Speirs’ mouth twisted into a smirk and Lipton thought about what he had just gotten himself into.
Hastily nudging Apollo aside Speirs flung Lipton’s blanket away before grabbing the Sergeant under the arms, being careful of the still healing bullet wound as he threw the man over his own shoulder.
Jones looked slightly mortified.
Webster had the gall to laugh.
“Sir! Speirs put me down!” This was humiliating. But the warmth flooding through his body was not an unwelcome feeling.
Speirs chuckled and patted Lipton’s thigh as he headed for the rear door of CP. “Don’t worry Lip, everyone knows I’m just looking out for Easy’s mother.”
“Are we interrupting something?” The voice was female and sounded exasperated with just a touch of fond laughter.
Speirs slowly set Lipton down, leaving an arm wrapped around his waist to keep the man balanced as they turned to greet Winters and Nixon as the men came in. Cyrilla just shook her head.
“No, sir.” Speirs replied. “Just taking care of one of my officers, sir.”
Nixon actually laughed as he exchanged a glance with Winters and Valonia puffed out her feathers from where she sat perched on his shoulder.
Winters smiled and shrugged as if he hadn’t just seen two of his men playing like school children. “Carry on then, Lieutenant but I need to talk with you when you’re finished.”
Speirs nodded and snapped off a salute before he resumed his task of getting Lipton into a bed.
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