eachdraidh | oo1 ⊕ video ⊕ both courts

oo1 ⊕ video ⊕ both courts

Hey, uh. Network. My name's Sam, for those of you I haven't gotten the chance to meet yet.

[ a small smile and a lift of his chin that both say he might genuinely like that chance to meet everyone everywhere at some point. but he's here with something serious today, so he moves right along. ]

I wanted to tell y'all something I like to keep in mind from day to day, but especially on days like the last dozen or so. I'm retired military - Air National Guard pararescue, for any of you that are familiar - but I enlisted a long time ago. Don't ask for a number, a man's gotta keep some secrets.

[ feelin' your age, wilson? his cheeky smile is short lived. ]

When I went to basic, I wasn't exactly itching for a fight, so I wasn't with the other greenies that were disappointed when we started with folding our own bed sheets. My ma raised me right, and the first time I picked up a gun, it was with all due respect to the power they were putting in my hands. I didn't wanna let all that go to my head and forget the responsibility that comes with carrying arms.

[ he purses his lips for a quiet beat, inhales shortly before continuing. ]

Wish I could say the same for the first time I shot a man. My country went to war right after I was accepted into the PJs, and when it was down to me or him, I chose him. Just - [ he makes a small pew gunshot sound, glum; ] - and that was that. I wasn't scared and I didn't feel guilty about it - and that was what stuck with me. I asked my unit, my CO, anyone that would listen. No one could tell me whether or not I was supposed to feel good about killing the "bad guys".

[ another moment's silence - half to find his next words, half out of respect for the dead. he scrubs a hand over his head. ]

Still don't really have an answer, and like I said, it's been a long time. Some days I think I might be close, and other days I ask myself "man, who do you think you're kidding?" Thing of it is - whether or not you think it's for the right reasons, taking someone else's life isn't easy, and it shouldn't be. That kinda thing stains your hands, and then you gotta decide how to live with it. For me, at least, some days are easier than others. And on the days when it's not, I keep looking for an answer.

[ finally, he gives a small, weary smile. the point of this whole thing: trying to get people to talk about it so they don't bottle it in. sam knows where he stands, and it's at the door, trying to open it for others. ]

If you've got any ideas, please, I'd love to hear 'em. Maybe we can trade a few around, see if we can't come up with something new. Either way, today's a good day.

[ dead tired, quiet, but sam still says it with a smile before signing off. ]

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[ Most of John wants to pull away, to close his locket and avoid Sam forever. Discipline makes him stay on the line, discipline and a small feeling in his gut that Sam's safe that John can't quite help but want to believe.

He swallows, licks his lips to try and chase away the dryness that's completely overtaken his mouth. ]

What year is it for you, Sam?

[ if it ever comes up - if john ever trusts him enough to say it - sam would tell him that it takes an incredible amount of strength to do this, not just discipline. strength, courage, and not a little bit of bravery.

if he ever gets the chance. ]

2014, last I was in DC.

2014, [ John repeats, rubbing at the back of his neck. ] 2046, for me. I don't know if our worlds are the same, other than some- pretty obvious "this is Earth" similarities, but...

I was in the Marines. Am, I guess, though I'm not sure how long that would have lasted if I hadn't come here when I did. Was in required therapy for six months before I showed up. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, they said, but I was clear to go back -- of course, next mission was an even bigger clusterfuck. Not that they would have known that -- not that they'd have cared if they did. I guess they figure that making you relive what happened over and over desensitizes you to it.

[ -- there's some that doesn't make sense, some that sam's familiar with even if it's not in that particular order. it's a lot to take in at once, and he ends up blurting: ]

Dude. That's fucked up.

[ super eloquent sam pls tell us more. ]

Like - seriously, fucked up. The country as a whole is only just recently starting to make strides in understanding PTSD and how to treat it, but that's like - seven thousand steps in the wrong direction.

[ this is all backwards. sam's supposed to keep a level head and speak calmly, to keep things on a cool level. but a part of him is disgusted, another part is indignant, and the whole of him is mortified that the corps would put John through something like that on purpose.

if nothing else, it's more blasé swearing between soldiers. but seriously, what the fuck. ]

[ Supposed to, supposed to, but Sam's outburst seems to break a dam -- John laughs suddenly, relief clear in it even as it makes it incredibly obvious that there's no humor in it, just a man who's seen way too much shit. ]

Yeah, well. Heard they used to be all about saving the rainforest and shit too, but that's gone out the window.

[ He runs his hand up from his neck, around to his stubble -- rubs at the line of his jaw for a moment before rubbing his palm over his face. ]

It's- I was doing okay here for a while, you know? I've got kids who were pulled in here, you know, people to look after -- people who dragged me out to look at flying bison and all of that. But then things started to really heat up, I heard about worlds dying with their shardbearers and just...

[ He shrugs. ]

It's fucked, man. You know the age of adulthood in most places in the Drabwurld is twelve? Twelve fucking years old. I enlisted when I was seventeen; I'm in my mid-thirties now. I'm already worn out. Those kids- what the hell happens to them, if they're lucky enough to live this long?

[ He shakes his head, takes a breath -- and all of a sudden, seems to realize he's been ranting. ]

Shit. Sorry.

[ sam's not entirely comforted by john's laughter, knowing the sound of it as nothing too pleasant, but it's at least a relief to see that small something break in him. it's - encouraging sounds too lighthearted, but it is that.

sam holds up his hands, smiling faintly. ]

Don't apologize to me, man. This is what I'm here for. And it sounds like you've got a lot on your mind.

[ to say nothing of that casual mention of worlds dying that sam sure hasn't heard yet - but this isn't about that, not right now. right now, he just wants to keep john with him. ]

If you want to get it out of there, you can always call on me, any time. I'm not gonna put any bullshit six month time limit on you.

[ read as: slow your roll, bro, i'm here as long as you need me to be. ]

[ He snorts. Again, no actual humor. ]

Yeah, you could say that.

[ He rubs at the back of his neck. ]

I'm not- good at talking about it. Not good at doing much but somehow managing to be the only one who doesn't die, really.

[ Which is definitely selling himself short, and logically he knows that, but sometimes it feels that way. ]

I wonder, sometimes, if it'd be better for people if I wasn't. If everyone I knew would stop dying or almost dying if I just wasn't around anymore. Friend of mine pointed out that that was bullshit, then she vanished from here. So.

[ it's not the first or even the hundredth time he's heard it said - it's called survivor's guilt, and sam had a steaming pile of it for himself for years after ... well, everything. but john's future america sounds fucked and he doesn't need that spelled out for him. ]

She's still a damn smart woman, even if she's not here anymore.

[ credit where credit is due. sam purses his lips for a second. ]

That's the thing about being at war for too long, whether it's a day or a decade. Someone's always dying, on both sides of the board, and it's really hard to be the one that survives all of that.

[ survivor's guilt. sam nods his head, then shrugs a little. ]

And maybe what's most fucked up about it is that you keep moving anyway. When my partner was killed mid-flight, I still landed and finished the mission. Cleaned up house, returned to base, scrambled on the next one. Eventually I got to go home, build myself a life. Fight a Jabberwock with my boy.

[ his smirks a little, morbidly cheeky. the crazy things we do without our loved ones, like living. ]

Every time I stop to ask myself "why wasn't it me? What right do I have to do all this without him?" [ he sucks his teeth. ] I can already feel Riley slapping the shit out of me. Still a smart dude, even if he ain't here anymore.

[ like your lady friend. like the things that are still true even long after the words have faded. ]

Yeah, well, I think when you're an Asgardian goddess you're supposed to be.

[ Yeah, his friend was Sif. Oops. ]

My best friend was killed. Scouting -- got ambushed. Guns were jamming; we took them out to test them in the field on orders but they couldn't hold up to the humidity. I should've fought them on it. Instead, came around a tree and Jumper was sitting there with his head blown off. Six months of bullshit therapy later and we're headed to the same place my parents died, where my twin sister worked, and every member of my unit, every civilian, everyone but me and her who was up there ends up dead. I nearly did, too. Sam -- my sister, Samantha, that is -- saved my life even though it could have gone... badly, but she was pretty fucking banged up. We were on the elevator when the fairies came and I ended up here.

That was back in April.

[ for just the briefest of moments, a small flicker of there-and-not-there, something in sam's expression flinches at the mention of jumper's body. he does pretty well with keep personal emotion out of his work, even when he's telling incredibly personal stories, but there are just some things that are hard.

this is hard. ]

You know, all the best war stories end with "and then some fairies spirited me away to fairyland".

[ sam inhales, shakes his head minutely. ]

Let me ask you something, man. I know you said you aren't good at talking about it, and I respect that, it's not an easy thing to do. But have you told anyone about this since you got here?

Bits and pieces. Usually to explain the fact that I can't get sick, stay injured for more than a few seconds, or get drunk. Or to explain why I'm perfectly capable of punching through the castle walls, but I haven't actually done that.

[ So not sat down and had a feeling session, no. ]

That's, uh. How my sister saved my life. Everyone ended up dead because they were experimenting with making people superhuman, only it turned certain people into monsters instead.

[ that's what he suspected, why he asked, but sam'll listen to the rest of what he says out of courtesy and curiosity both. ]

We got a little bit of that going on in my world too. Only one success story, though, which might explain why Steve is keeping up with this whole Army versus Marines thing. You guys got a few things in common with each other that no one else really does.

We talked about it a little. He clenched his jaw so hard I thought it was going to break.

[ You know, that jaw clench. ]

[ a faint, amused scoff. yeah, he knows the one. ]

Man's got his demons, that's for sure. If I can get both of you to sit down and chill for a minute one of these days, I swear I will retire for good.

[ mission accomplished, time to go home and nap. ]

What, at the same time?

[ John stop laughing at yourself ): ]

I've done couple's therapy once or twice, I'm good for it.

[ C: ]

[ Snort. ]

Ask him why he doesn't tell me I'm pretty anymore.

Do you tell him he's pretty on the regular? 'cause you gotta give a little to get a little, you know what I'm saying.

[ have good sex with my bff.

]

[ If only John could keep up the facade.

Instead, he starts laughing. ]

You're something else, Wilson.

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oo1 ⊕ video ⊕ both courts

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