indigo_angels

..2..

The sound of the rotors was deafening but Face didn’t mind, without it he was sure everyone else in the chopper would be able to hear the terrified pounding of his heart. All that time, all that training, all that preparation, all came down to this moment and suddenly Face didn’t want to be here, he was too young, not even nineteen, even though his service record said he was twenty. Too young to be a soldier and too young to die on his first mission.

He looked around at the others, laughing and joking, taking a smoke or just sitting quietly and wondered why none of them looked like they were in danger of wetting themselves where they sat. He was a joke, this was a mistake, he shouldn’t be here, he was going to get himself killed...

“Hey, kid,” suddenly there was a presence in front of him and he looked up into the eyes of his new CO. “You okay there?”

He liked this guy. He’d only been with him for three months but already the Colonel had made a good impression. He seemed fair with his men, he’d made the effort to talk to Face, get to know him a bit and the other guys all treated him like God, so that was a good indicator in itself.

He couldn’t speak though, felt like he might throw up if he did so he offered up a sharp nod instead. Great, lying to his CO already...

But Hannibal just smiled at him and Face had the distinct feeling that he hadn’t fooled his boss one little bit. “I remember my first mission!” Hannibal was yelling over the sound of the rotors, “Was sick all over myself before I even got in the chopper!” he laughed at Face who smiled thinly back at him, convinced it was just a lie to try and make him feel better.

Hannibal watched him carefully for a moment and then patted him on the leg, “You’ll be okay, kid. Just stick with me, yeah?”

Face nodded, yeah, that was the plan, he was to stick with the boss, where he could be kept an eye on. Fine by him, if there was only person he wanted to watch his back it was Hannibal Smith.

So they’d landed, all piled out and then Face hadn’t had much time to concentrate on being shit scared as he was too busy concentrating on staying alive. The boss had kept him safe, the mission was accomplished, they were heading out... and then the unthinkable happened.

The chopper was behind them, Face could hear the rotors again, and it was suddenly the best sound in the world. Everyone else was in, there was just him and Hannibal left, guarding the rear, keeping the chasing pack at bay.

“Okay, kid!” Hannibal’s voice sounded right in his ear, “Let’s go! We’ve got -” and then he was cut off with a strangled cry. Face whirled on the spot and saw his CO on the ground, one hand clamped over his thigh, blood seeping through the fingers, face already white as chalk.

“Fucking hell...” Face didn’t even think, he just slung his gun over his shoulder and grabbed Hannibal under his arms, trusting that the guys in the chopper would give them some cover, and half dragged, half carried his CO under the down draft to where many hands were reaching out to haul them both to safety.

He sat in the chopper, shaking like a frightened kitten all the way back to base, watching as the guys worked on Hannibal’s leg and the two holes, one in, one out, that were spewing blood enthusiastically all over the floor.

He didn’t move even after they’d landed, just sat and shook while the medics rushed in and bundled his CO onto a stretcher. As Hannibal was moved past him, a large, bloody hand reached out and patted his trembling leg, “You did good, kid,” Hannibal sounded tired, but Face could see he was smiling, “A good first mission, I’m proud of you.”

It was only once he’d watched Hannibal into the safety of the Medical Tent that he scrambled out of the chopper let himself hurl up the contents of his stomach into a handy bush.

____________________________________

Face lets his hand wander down into the gap between them on the recliner, looking for the matching little hole on the back of Hannibal’s leg, and there it is, he feels it gently, not as deep as the one on the front, but a bit wider. He knows exactly what it looks like even though he can’t see it, knows the exact shade of dusky pink it is, exactly how it feels against his skin, against his tongue.

He frowns, preferring not to think about that night anymore and instead trails his fingers up and over his boss’ chest to his left shoulder, smiling slightly at the thin white scar he finds right across Hannibal’s collar bone...

Read on...