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Lightning Farron is an army of one (army_of_one) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-03-02 21:25:00

"That Letter would have gone to my little sister."
Who: Lightning, Wolfwood
What: Two wounded warriors chat.
When: Today.
Where: Military PT Building.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for talk about war.
Status: Complete!


There was literally nothing Wolfwood hated more in his current situation in life than physical therapy. He couldn’t drive until the cast came off, so he had to hitch a ride or hop a bus like a high schooler up to a depressing, squat building on the outskirts of town, wherein he would be poked, patronized and put through hell in the name of rebuilding the tendons in his shattered shoulder. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there were always people waiting there that had it far worse than he did, which made him feel guilty. Or, there would be people who looked as though nothing was wrong with them at all, which made him feel annoyed, and then guilty for judging.

He was doing what he normally did while waiting for PT, which was sit in the chair closest to the wall and pretend he was alone in the room. He was near the door, so someone might trip over him, but that couldn’t be helped.

Lightning hated PT even more than she hated being in the hospital, probably for some of the same reasons that Wolfwood did. But she'd fudged her way out of another three weeks of the former, and Serah had only let her live it down by making her promise to sign up for the latter.

So she walked into the building, feeling grumpy and wishing she had a cigarette in her hand instead of a cup of coffee. She'd picked the habit up overseas, but after a shot through the lungs she was trying to be smarter.

Plus, Serah would kill her if she smoked here.

Even though she was a civilian now, she wore fatigues and her left hand was in a sling - mostly to prevent her chest muscles there from moving around too much. She grunted at the man she ended up sitting across from, whose arm was also in a sling. He seemed as happy to be here as she was.

Wolfwood heard the grunt, looking up at a surprisingly pretty woman with a face like thunder. His first impulse was not to intrude, to leave her alone with her grumpy the same way he liked being alone with his. But he recognized the camo and couldn’t entirely keep his mouth shut. “Afghanistan?” he asked, figuring she could tell him to fuck off if she felt like it.

She considered telling him to fuck off, but he was just being polite. And the waiting area was uneasily silent. Talking to him might get her mind off what was awaiting them, anyway. "Yeah. You'll understand if I can't tell you exactly where. Most of my squad are still fighting over there."

It was bullshit that she couldn't go back to them. They were her brothers, and they'd never treated her like anything but an equal. She took a sip of her coffee, "They better not be doing anything stupid without me."

That made him smile in spite of himself, and he hastened to explain. “Sorry. Not trying to make light of it. I’m in the same spot.” His boys were probably in the exact same spot he’d left them. “Except I know my guys are. Doing something stupid, I mean.” They always did. He’d usually been the one to talk them about not taking ridiculous chances.

Light had definitely been the voice of reason for her guys. And even though she wasn't actually in charge, she'd spent plenty of time bitching them out when they pulled crap that might get them all killed. Usually, their CO just shook his head and let her do it.

"I'm not there to give them a beat-down for it. They're gonna run all over Coleman, now. Man never could keep them all in line. Shit. If I see their faces in here I'm going to kill them myself."

That got Wolfwood to smile again, but for far less time. “I know the feeling. A couple of my boys were from SoCal, and I swear, I’ve been keeping a damn eye out. You make lieutenant, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She shook her head, lips turning up a bit in a smirk, "They probably would have promoted me to Staff Sergeant after all this, but no. I only made Sergeant, myself. We were a small squad, just ten of us. You have to go to fancy schools to make the officer ranks. Sir?"

It seemed like he was probably up there in rank if he was asking her if she'd made Lieutenant. 'Sir'ing him was probably a good idea.

“Oh, no sir, please. Everyone calls me Wolfwood.” Wolfwood felt awkward when people not directly in his command called him sir. “I made lieutenant because I got recommended for the green-and-gold. Got my commission and my degree over three years, during one of which I missed stepping on a land mine by a literal foot. I am charmed. Or was til I got my ass shot off.”

"It was a dream of mine, I just never got there," Light admitted. Officer ranks got paid better, Serah would have been set up for a while. She motioned to the sling her arm was in, coffee still in hand, "Not so charmed, myself. Though maybe enough not to get shot in the ass. No offense. Sir... Wolfwood."

“I did actually get shot in the ass once. Well. Very lower back.” Wolfwood had to chuckle. “This time it was through the meat of my arm and shoulder, from below.” He shook his head. “Was trying to get a family out of a burning building and some asshole shot me from under the ladder.”

"This was my first time. I can't say it was doing anything as heroic." Light shook her head. She felt a little humbled in the man's presence. He deserved a medal for that in her opinion, "I hope the top brass at least stopped by and brought you some fruit or something."

“It was my job.” Wolfwood shrugged. “My unit was detailed to manage civilians in a certain village for a while - there was a lot of shelling going on, and half of us tried to minimize casualties while the other half went guerrilla hunting.” He never felt like he deserved recognition for doing his job. “My major did actually come to see me. It was something, at least.”

Light nodded her head. She got that, though she still considered it pretty heroic. She knew some soldiers that would have panicked and turned away from a burning building like that. Not everyone could actually keep a clear head in crisis situations.

"We were running supply. It wasn't anything fancy, but you know how easy it is to ambush supply caravans. We can't always airdrop things in. I don't know if it was the wrong place at the wrong time or if they knew, but the lead truck got hit with a claymore mine. Before we knew it we were taking fire. I'm lucky I survived. Pretty sure someone dragged me out of that second truck. No one's admitting who. Probably because they know I'd yell at them."

Before he could ask, she added, "Most of the guys were fine. Fine enough to head back out, anyway. The other squad riding with us wasn't as lucky."

Wolfwood shook his head. “Sorry to hear it, on all counts.” Everyone got casualties, but it never got easier. “That’s just lousy luck - I saw a lot of mines and a lot of casualties that just didn’t need to happen.”

Lightning shrugged her shoulder, careful not to spill her coffee, "It's a fluid situation out there. They prepare you for everything they can but no plan survives contact with the enemy. You just keep your head down and do your job, make sure you have the back of the guy next to yours, and try to survive. I don’t want to question if we should have been out there or not. If not us, then it might have been someone else. Maybe they would have deserved it. Maybe it would have been civilians. If that’s the case, I’m glad the bullet hit me instead."

“I know that feeling.” Wolfwood nodded. “I’d rather take it than have some kid take it, or one of my guys. It sounds cliche, but it’s true. And at least my mom didn’t have to get The Letter.” Everybody knew The Letter. And they didn’t want to talk about it.

It made her wince, "That Letter would have gone to my little sister. She's the only family I have left. It was touch and go out there, but the thought of her having to read a letter like that."

She shook her head, "I can't do that to her. I won't ever do that to her."

“I know that feeling,” Wolfwood said again. “I know it well. I never had any siblings - my dad died too young - but my mom and I are close, and it would kill her. I always kinda kept it in the back of my mind to be extra-super careful, as stupid as it might sound.”

"No. It's not stupid," Light shook her head, then looked him in the eye, "It's too easy to lose yourself out there. You have to have something that keeps you honest. Something to cling to that keeps you human. Some of us have nothing left to lose and that's more terrifying than facing any enemy."

That really seemed to strike home. Wolfwood looked at her for a long minute, wondering what she’d gone through in that regard. It really seemed like she spoke from experience. “As long as we have family, I think we’ve got something to lose,” he finally said, not wanting to sound silly or patronizing. “Or even somebody else you lose. But even if I had nothing to lose, I feel like I still have a job to do - and I have to do that job well. Not full of rage or despair. There’s no place for that if you can help it.”

"I agree."

She took another long sip of her coffee, while nodding her head for emphasis. Her experiences out there were her own, however, and she didn't feel like sharing them. Even with someone she was steadily growing to respect. Maybe after she got to know him a little better.

"You have to try and control your emotions out there. Or in any situation, really. Bad ones. I don't think it'd be different if we were cops or firefighters or EMT's."

“I agree.” Wolfwood said, sitting back. “I guess this PT stuff is supposed to help us deal with the physical so we can deal with the mental ... when in reality, we wind up divided. Half of us need genuine psychiatric help, and half of us just need a bottle of wine and a good screw. Which is not a come-on,” he added, grinning belatedly in spite of himself. “Just saying that some of us handle shit differently.”

"Some people think that if the body is made whole again, it'll make the rest of you feel whole too." Lightning shook her head, unsure what kind of person she really was. She'd never had a good screw, ever, and he didn't need to know that, "You don't forget what you see out there. There is no going home again. I don't know how I'll handle it yet. I've been in a bed and pretty heavily drugged up to this point. Doesn't give you too much time to think."

“At least not think coherently.” Wolfwood shrugged. “If it isn’t too personal to say, I hope you get time to think about it.”

He would have said more, but then a bored-looking nurse opened the door to the inside, calling his name. Wolfwood turned back to the woman, offering a mock-but-not-mocking salute. “See you around, Sergeant.” She’d never given her name, but the least he could do was give the woman the respect of her rank.

"Lightning. Lightning Farron," Claire replied, with a bigger smile than she'd ever favored him with up to this point. She returned his mock salute, and nodded, "See you around, Wolfwood."