Killer Howlett

Joining the SSR

1943: World War II

"You mean to tell me that you're... just going to accept this new assignment?" Her brother growls, canines snapping as he glares at her. She purses her lips, looking at him, head tilting slightly as she waits for his temper tantrum to be over, "We're meant to stick together!"

"I'm not sure what it is that you want me to do. I go where the army tells me," she reminds sarcastically, dog tags swinging from her neck as she packs her things, "They want me to train, to infiltrate. I know German, it's a good fit."

"It's a cowardly assignment," he corrects spitefully, ripping the clothes from her hands and tossing them on her cot, "I won't accept this!"

"Are you going to do anything about this," she deadpans at her other brother, frowning as he stands in the corner, leaning against her table with his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw sets, but he sighs and steps up, roughly pushing their older brother back from her, standing protectively at her side.

"I don't agree with this, either," he tells her lowly, his voice deep, "If you're counting votes."

"James..." she trails off, sighing as she sets a hand on his arm, "James, I can't do this anymore. The mindless fighting, killing. I... I have to have a better purpose than this."

"You're a soldier," her oldest brother spits at her, huffing as his fists clench, "This is war."

"Killing may satiate your sadistic bloodlust, brother, but it is not for me!" She snaps back, eyes hardening as he snarls at her, "I want more than this! I want to make a difference, to end this war! To end the killing!"

"You're abandoning us!" He shouts back.

"I've stuck by you all these years!" She shouts back, scoffing, "I ran from home for you! I left my mother for you! I want more. I want... I want a life, to experience more than just war after war."

"You're making a mistake," he promises lowly, glaring at her, "You belong with us, with family."

"If I am, then let me make it," she pleads, knowing full well he will track her down and force her back if he truly refuses to relinquish his grip on her, "Let me make the mistake, and you can gloat about it for the next hundred years if you want once I return."

His jaw sets, and he looks away bitterly. She counts her won battle with silence, careful to school her expression. She turns her eyes back to James. Truthfully, it's him that she is closest to. It's his opinion that she cares for, his approval she craves. She pleads silently with him, and he watches her with a hard expression. She matches his gaze, his blue eyes locking with her own bottle green irises.

"You keep in touch," he demands, his voice a growl as he grips her shoulder tightly, "You keep in touch, and you stay safe."

"I will write weekly," she promises, launching herself at him. He grips her, his fingers tangling in her wild black curls. She grips him just as tightly, her eyes burning with the threat of tears, "You both must survive this war," she demands.

"You know we will," her eldest brother snarks, his heavy hand landing on her shoulder as she releases James from her embrace, "Just as we know you will."

"Still, don't do anything stupid," she beseeches them, sparing most of her gaze for her eldest brother, "I don't want to have to break you out of jail again."

"Little sister, you wound me."

James hands her her suitcase, and she grips his hand tightly as she looks between the two.

"Please... Take care of yourselves," she repeats desperately, hugging James, "Goodbye James," she mutters, squeezing him before she hugs her eldest brother, "Goodbye Victor."

"We'll be in touch, Adelaide," James promises, pulling a cigar from his pocket and rolling it around in his hands, "We'll see each other again soon enough."

"Take these," Victor tells her, ripping one of his tags from his neck, handing it to her.

She looks to him in surprise before she holds her hand out, watching him drop the cool metal into her palm, his name stamped boldly on it. Then, another joins as James drops one of his own. She grips them tightly before she rips her own from her neck, holding them out to James. He takes them, handing one to Victor.

"I'll see you in hell, brothers," she jokes weakly, her voice wavering despite her efforts. Victor smirks at her, ruffling her hair before she departs.

She sniffles slightly before fixing her face as she approaches the representative that had approached her from the SSR. She grips the tags in her palm tightly as she stands at attention in front of him.

"Lieutenant Howlett, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," she answers, following him without a glance back.