Blue Skies From Pain
Nov. 7th, 2010 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deeperwondermentTitle: Blue Skies From Pain
Author:shadowcat
Fandom: Transformers Movie!Verse
Pairing/Characters: William Lennox, Sam Witwicky
Rating/Category: PG/Gen
Summary: How does one go on with the person who was your everything is no longer there?
Words: 1,699
Notes: I was listening to Pink Floyd and this bunny reached out and bit me. Hard.
He had seen a lot of death in his lifetime. It was something that just came with the territory after being special forces in the military for so long. He had seen a lot of death and said a lot of farewells. It never got any easier saying goodbye to someone he cared about. It never got any easier burying a colleague or trying to pick up all of the pieces of broken lives afterward.
No, it never got any easier, but this farewell seemed even worse than all of the others that come before. He knew why it had happened but that didn't mean it was any easier to accept -- for him or his men. His eyes moved over the members of his team that were standing with him and he saw all of the same things in their eyes that he was feeling right now. All of the people they had lost over the past twelve years and none of them had caused this much pain.
God, he felt so damn old.
The Secretary of Defense concluded whatever bullshit it was that he had been saying and he felt himself have to fight not to let his annoyance with the false sadness be seen. This man who had been safe and protected from all of the fighting knew nothing about the person they were burying today. Everything he had said or repeated about heroics and being taken too young simply came from the detailed reports his staffers had given him. It was his opinion that the only reason the President wasn't at the graveside was because it was too dangerous for him to leave the bunkers right now. If the circumstances were different, this funeral might have turned into some sort of competition to see which one of the people in power could appear more distraught about the loss of life.
After the guns went off in the salute that he and his team had fought so hard to get for this service, he felt himself mentally shaking off some of the numbness he was feeling. If anyone deserved a hero's salute for the way they had served their country, it was the person that had been buried much too soon. Even before the echoes from the guns had faded, the suits and the media finally started making their way out of the cemetery. When the rest of the attention seekers followed them out, he detached himself from his men and made his way to stand next to the man whose expression hadn't changed once during the entirety of the service.
When he stopped beside the younger man, he couldn't believe the way that time could play tricks on the mind. Had it only been twelve years since they had first met in that secret bunker below Hoover Dam? Hadn't it been so much longer that he and his men had sided with the sixteen year old who was trying to gain freedom for his car? So much had happened in those twelve years that it seemed like they had known each other forever. Twelve years shouldn't have aged any of them like it had. Twelve years shouldn't have weighed on the man next to him like it suddenly seemed to. His hair was shot through with gray, but it was his face that told the story of his life since this whole damn war had begun.
Christ, when had he started looking older than his years? Had he always been like this and he had never noticed, or had this latest death been what had aged him so much? Five years ago when his parents had been buried, he didn't look this old. He would have noticed that. He would have noticed his twenty-eight year old friend becoming an old man in front of his eyes.
Or was it just everything that had happened in the last week that caused the younger man to look aged and weighed down?
"It should have been me," the younger man said finally without looking at him. His voice was rougher than it had been before.
"I don't believe --"
"They were gunning for me. We all knew that. The explosion was supposed to take me out. He had me in his sights and I didn't have time to get out the line of fire." He clenched his fists. "I should be the one in the ground this time. I cheated death once, and that was more times than any one else involved!"
"You can't keep beating yourself up like this. It's not going to accomplish anything but make you ill and wear you down," he said firmly, lapsing into the voice of a commander instead of a friend. Right now, his friend needed to hear the voice of experience. "What happened that night, none of us expected it, and we all should have. Every imaginable situation we could think of, we had a reaction for and we had a plan of assault. We didn't plan for what she did, and we all should have. We all knew her and we all knew how much she loved you. We all saw her reaction years ago in Egypt when we thought you were dead and not one of us thought to pay attention to her in the fight. We knew she could handle herself and didn't think about what she might do if you were in danger." He shook his head. "If you're going to blame yourself for this, you have to place blame on all of the rest of us, too."
"What the hell am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here?"
He hated this. He hated that they were even here and having to have this conversation. Damn it, he would give almost anything for this kid to never have had to know the kind of pain and loss that had dogged him for the last twelve years. Yes, other people had lost people in this war, but this kid had lost more than any of them. It wasn't right that he had buried everyone in his family in such a short time. Who did the kid now have but him and his team? He looked past him to the road beside the grave and amended that. He had them and the machines that were on their side. The machines who acted with more humanity than a great deal of human beings showed each other.
He was still trying to find the right words to say that wouldn't sound as empty as most words at these times felt when there was a subdued voice that came up to them from their feet.
"You keep fighting back. You fight back and you make them pay for taking our Amazon warrior goddess away from us. You blow those bastards back to what's left of Cybertron."
From the way his friend jerked, it was obvious that he hadn't been the only one that had forgotten the presence of the little robot that had become attached to their family years ago.
Sam looked down at where Wheelie was staring at the marble headstone in front of them, but the mouthy robot didn't look away from the headstone. As they both looked down at him, Lennox had the fleeting thought that they would all be interested in knowing when Wheelie had gotten his paint changed from blue to black -- and how.
Since when had such things started escaping his notice? It was his job to know when things around them changed and even something as inconsequential as a paint change could end up spelling trouble.
"I don't know how to do all of this without her, Lennox." Sam's voice was full of pain. "Mik wasn't afraid of anything and she always had so much more confidence in me than I did."
Lennox sighed, wishing he could make all of this easier for him. "You have to do what you feel is right, Sam. That's all we can ever do. That's all anyone can ever expect of someone. I have faith in you. The team has faith in you. Optimus and the Autobots have confidence in you. You're not alone, no matter how it feels right now."
"I never wanted any of this. I don't regret the friends I've made, but damn it. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to get the girl I loved interested in me and live my life. I just wanted normalacy."
"I know. None of us wanted any of this, but Megatron and his Decepticons didn't give us any choice in the matter and this is what we have to deal with now." He reached out and squeezed Sam's shoulder.
"I miss her. I miss her so much. I wake up in the middle of the night and it feels like the pain is going to kill me. I can't breathe and I just want her back." Sam's hand was shaking as he reached out to touch the tombstone in front of them. "I always thought I would go first, you know? I thought I would go first and we would be so old when it happened."
"I know. It shouldn't have happened like this. No one should have to deal with as much as you have and no one should ever die as young as she did."
Sam let out a shuddering breath and his hand fell to his side.
Lennox nodded at his men who started to walk away, and then he put an arm around Sam's shoulders to steer him out of the cemetery and towards the vehicles that waited for them.
"Come on, Sam," Lennox said quietly. "There's nothing you have to decide tonight and Sarah is expecting both of us back at the house."
At the edge of the cemetery, Sam climbed into the passenger seat of Ironhide and closed his eyes. He heard Lennox get in and then heard Ironhide's engine rumble. He opened his eyes again and stared at the headstone until he could no longer see it and he closed his eyes once more.
Mikaela Witwicky
Beloved Wife, Friend and Hero
Author:
shadowcatFandom: Transformers Movie!Verse
Pairing/Characters: William Lennox, Sam Witwicky
Rating/Category: PG/Gen
Summary: How does one go on with the person who was your everything is no longer there?
Words: 1,699
Notes: I was listening to Pink Floyd and this bunny reached out and bit me. Hard.
He had seen a lot of death in his lifetime. It was something that just came with the territory after being special forces in the military for so long. He had seen a lot of death and said a lot of farewells. It never got any easier saying goodbye to someone he cared about. It never got any easier burying a colleague or trying to pick up all of the pieces of broken lives afterward.
No, it never got any easier, but this farewell seemed even worse than all of the others that come before. He knew why it had happened but that didn't mean it was any easier to accept -- for him or his men. His eyes moved over the members of his team that were standing with him and he saw all of the same things in their eyes that he was feeling right now. All of the people they had lost over the past twelve years and none of them had caused this much pain.
God, he felt so damn old.
The Secretary of Defense concluded whatever bullshit it was that he had been saying and he felt himself have to fight not to let his annoyance with the false sadness be seen. This man who had been safe and protected from all of the fighting knew nothing about the person they were burying today. Everything he had said or repeated about heroics and being taken too young simply came from the detailed reports his staffers had given him. It was his opinion that the only reason the President wasn't at the graveside was because it was too dangerous for him to leave the bunkers right now. If the circumstances were different, this funeral might have turned into some sort of competition to see which one of the people in power could appear more distraught about the loss of life.
After the guns went off in the salute that he and his team had fought so hard to get for this service, he felt himself mentally shaking off some of the numbness he was feeling. If anyone deserved a hero's salute for the way they had served their country, it was the person that had been buried much too soon. Even before the echoes from the guns had faded, the suits and the media finally started making their way out of the cemetery. When the rest of the attention seekers followed them out, he detached himself from his men and made his way to stand next to the man whose expression hadn't changed once during the entirety of the service.
When he stopped beside the younger man, he couldn't believe the way that time could play tricks on the mind. Had it only been twelve years since they had first met in that secret bunker below Hoover Dam? Hadn't it been so much longer that he and his men had sided with the sixteen year old who was trying to gain freedom for his car? So much had happened in those twelve years that it seemed like they had known each other forever. Twelve years shouldn't have aged any of them like it had. Twelve years shouldn't have weighed on the man next to him like it suddenly seemed to. His hair was shot through with gray, but it was his face that told the story of his life since this whole damn war had begun.
Christ, when had he started looking older than his years? Had he always been like this and he had never noticed, or had this latest death been what had aged him so much? Five years ago when his parents had been buried, he didn't look this old. He would have noticed that. He would have noticed his twenty-eight year old friend becoming an old man in front of his eyes.
Or was it just everything that had happened in the last week that caused the younger man to look aged and weighed down?
"It should have been me," the younger man said finally without looking at him. His voice was rougher than it had been before.
"I don't believe --"
"They were gunning for me. We all knew that. The explosion was supposed to take me out. He had me in his sights and I didn't have time to get out the line of fire." He clenched his fists. "I should be the one in the ground this time. I cheated death once, and that was more times than any one else involved!"
"You can't keep beating yourself up like this. It's not going to accomplish anything but make you ill and wear you down," he said firmly, lapsing into the voice of a commander instead of a friend. Right now, his friend needed to hear the voice of experience. "What happened that night, none of us expected it, and we all should have. Every imaginable situation we could think of, we had a reaction for and we had a plan of assault. We didn't plan for what she did, and we all should have. We all knew her and we all knew how much she loved you. We all saw her reaction years ago in Egypt when we thought you were dead and not one of us thought to pay attention to her in the fight. We knew she could handle herself and didn't think about what she might do if you were in danger." He shook his head. "If you're going to blame yourself for this, you have to place blame on all of the rest of us, too."
"What the hell am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here?"
He hated this. He hated that they were even here and having to have this conversation. Damn it, he would give almost anything for this kid to never have had to know the kind of pain and loss that had dogged him for the last twelve years. Yes, other people had lost people in this war, but this kid had lost more than any of them. It wasn't right that he had buried everyone in his family in such a short time. Who did the kid now have but him and his team? He looked past him to the road beside the grave and amended that. He had them and the machines that were on their side. The machines who acted with more humanity than a great deal of human beings showed each other.
He was still trying to find the right words to say that wouldn't sound as empty as most words at these times felt when there was a subdued voice that came up to them from their feet.
"You keep fighting back. You fight back and you make them pay for taking our Amazon warrior goddess away from us. You blow those bastards back to what's left of Cybertron."
From the way his friend jerked, it was obvious that he hadn't been the only one that had forgotten the presence of the little robot that had become attached to their family years ago.
Sam looked down at where Wheelie was staring at the marble headstone in front of them, but the mouthy robot didn't look away from the headstone. As they both looked down at him, Lennox had the fleeting thought that they would all be interested in knowing when Wheelie had gotten his paint changed from blue to black -- and how.
Since when had such things started escaping his notice? It was his job to know when things around them changed and even something as inconsequential as a paint change could end up spelling trouble.
"I don't know how to do all of this without her, Lennox." Sam's voice was full of pain. "Mik wasn't afraid of anything and she always had so much more confidence in me than I did."
Lennox sighed, wishing he could make all of this easier for him. "You have to do what you feel is right, Sam. That's all we can ever do. That's all anyone can ever expect of someone. I have faith in you. The team has faith in you. Optimus and the Autobots have confidence in you. You're not alone, no matter how it feels right now."
"I never wanted any of this. I don't regret the friends I've made, but damn it. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to get the girl I loved interested in me and live my life. I just wanted normalacy."
"I know. None of us wanted any of this, but Megatron and his Decepticons didn't give us any choice in the matter and this is what we have to deal with now." He reached out and squeezed Sam's shoulder.
"I miss her. I miss her so much. I wake up in the middle of the night and it feels like the pain is going to kill me. I can't breathe and I just want her back." Sam's hand was shaking as he reached out to touch the tombstone in front of them. "I always thought I would go first, you know? I thought I would go first and we would be so old when it happened."
"I know. It shouldn't have happened like this. No one should have to deal with as much as you have and no one should ever die as young as she did."
Sam let out a shuddering breath and his hand fell to his side.
Lennox nodded at his men who started to walk away, and then he put an arm around Sam's shoulders to steer him out of the cemetery and towards the vehicles that waited for them.
"Come on, Sam," Lennox said quietly. "There's nothing you have to decide tonight and Sarah is expecting both of us back at the house."
At the edge of the cemetery, Sam climbed into the passenger seat of Ironhide and closed his eyes. He heard Lennox get in and then heard Ironhide's engine rumble. He opened his eyes again and stared at the headstone until he could no longer see it and he closed his eyes once more.
Beloved Wife, Friend and Hero
