lslines

Well, my arthritis is flaring up. In my knees rather than my hands this time. And goddamn it hurts. My Ibuprofen is Not Helping. But I have a sleepover with Lori and Rachel to look forward to; we're going to watch my FMA DVD's.And sometime this week, between Thursday and Sunday, we're going to see PotC2. And maybe I'll be able to bring Lori, mum says. Anyway, I have a ficlet for ye all...

Title: Last Stand
Author:

lizas_lines
Rating: K+
Fandom: None.
Pairing: Corporal x Sargent. I think.
Claimer: Mine.
Authors Note: This is what happens when I read too much Monstrous Regiment fanfiction - war ficlets. Now, in my mind this is femmeslash. But it could just be het for all I know. Make up your own mind. I just know the Sargent is a woman. Based loosely off the first two verses of Death Cab for Cutie's song 'Into the Dark'. Enjoy.

So this is the famous last stand, is it? It feels funny to say this now, of course, while you die quickly on the blood stained ground beside me. We’ve had a few last stands and they’ve never actually been the last, but this time it looks like it might be. Oh well. We’re soldiers. We’ve known this was coming for a long time. You walk with death everyday on the battlefield and after a while is presence isn’t quite so bad- it becomes almost comforting. That’s what you told me once, remember? A stick my body out from behind the rock, and squeeze off a round. I pull back a few seconds later, but it’s too late. The bullet’s gone through my stomach. It hurts, no surprise there. I wonder if it hurt this much for you… I’d ask you myself, but I don’t think you can speak at the moment. I don’t think I can either if it comes right down to it. In the mud, in the rain, in the middle of a war, my hand seeks out yours, finds it and squeezes. You squeeze back. Heh, nice to see you haven’t died yet. I couldn’t stand to have you die before me.

“There…” You mutter, voice broken and hoarse. “There won’t be… be a tunnel of blinding light now, will there? Because that… would be just too cliché.” You start coughing and I know that there’s blood in your mouth, in your lungs. We’re both dying.

“I dunno,” I choke out in reply. “I don’t give a damn either. I won’t care if it just goes dark and nothing else happens. Just as long as you don’t let go…” I lace our fingers together, and you tighten your grip. You chuckle.

“Hnn, ha, don’t worry. There’s… no way I’ll ever… let you go…” And your grip loosens. But you don’t let go.

“Good,” I whisper to myself, because you’re already gone. “But damn, girl, did you have to leave me here? Well, don’t worry. I’ll follow you into the dark, like I always do.”

I can hear the rest of our little lads sliding down the muddy slope towards me. The gunfire’s stopped, but it won’t for long. Oh well. They’d better take our boots, the damned idiots. I’ll kill if they pass up the opportunity.

“Hang on, sarge. I’m coming…”

And the world goes dark.