--------------------------------------------------------------
de·vo·tion
/dəˈvōSH(ə)n/
noun
love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause.
______________________________________
The long June twilight faded into the night, and the crickets made no noise. As the sunrise enveloped the darkness and its array of colors, the dim light of the moon shone against the pinkish and purple tints of the sky that bled into a red. It was all silent...
And on the cool rooftop, you lay splayed on your stomach, your sniper poised with your body ready to fire at any time. Any moment. Any movement. The Butt of the Gun rested in the crook of your shoulder and neck. And the barrel held in your grip and the trigger poised against your hands. The groove of it reminds you of the awareness around you.
You gaze stoic and harsh as you listened to the updates of your team moving about...flushing out the enemy toward your location....
After a few moments of the faint gun fire and yells, you saw movement, a shift in the shadows...
Bingo.
Your eye squinted, and within a moment, the trigger was pulled, and the body went sprawling into the light.
The man you had been after for months,the reason you have been out here for two years... And he was dead. Just like that. Satisfied you, comfimed the kill over the comms and began to make your way back to the ravendous spot to be loaded with everyone else.
"This is Bravo 12-0, confirming target is down and dead. Heading toward ravendous area now."
A few of your team members had followed alongside or behind you now, all trickled alongside you as you all made your way back to the pick-up point. Exhaust tinting your stark aware faces... and then something round had flicked its way up into the air.. and plummeted down toward your group...
You felt your heart sink as one simple word hoarded itself out of your racing chest.
"GRENANDE"
And within a moment, you all had scattered, throwing yourselves behind sharpnel and anything else that would cover you from the blast....and then.. the sound of the explosion in ahead of you somewhere sparked your ears to ring raw. Everything around was muffled as you flew out of your hiding spot and fired two premised and precise shots at the two above on the balcony..watching them fall in a sprawling manner through the air before hitting the ground with a thump...
Your gaze weeded the area around your now recovering group. Sulfur and metal stained your nostrils as metallic smells crept its way into your breath and tongue thickly..sticking to you.
Then a bullet zipped past your head,and in a moment, you had thrown yourself behind rubble and now pinned behind cover once more..
Your gun held tightly in your hand as bullets flew from it, landing its mark from its chambers into the fetal parts of the men and women who stood in your way.. and you did so without a single thought as you crouched behind a crate of rubble and fired from cover as the onslaught of bullets and explosions filled your ears...
But the utter terror of soldiers wounded all alike that laid down on the field everywhere, either with dead corpses or not, they laid and cried out in agony and fear.. And the medics could only grab so many at a time.. You then felt a bullet whizz past your face, and on pure reflex, you fired a returning bullet or two and felt your adrenaline soar as you moved forward, firing and firing, reloading and reloading as you and your team.. Moved forward, choking the area with gun fire and dead bodies on top of the already dead or wounded.
And it seemed like a repetitive cycle until the enemy fell. Until you were able to step out into the clear and breath without it being haltered.
You didn't remember who for Or why you were here. But all you was that you got here with no help, not from family, none.
All you knew was that the blood soaked your skin and dusted it, holding a sticky feeling to it. Your body heaving with breath and ache as you marched in line to the chopper, all you thought of was just stalking to the infirmary and getting your guns cleaned and put away and a shower..
You almost gagged at the smell of the blood and weeks upon weeks of being out on the field, finally setting it. The way the mud caked your boots and your pants, your rolled up sleeves covered almost every inch in dirt and blood. You shivered and continued on to one of the many choppers waiting for you ... and once you had gotten your footing into the chopper...
The chopper ride leaves you twitching beneath skin. Adrenaline pounding from the mission and burning nuclear missiles to go off in your belly and frame..and piston you too space out and relieve it into autopilot as the flight ended..and feet touched the bases grounding...
A shower.
Some pacing..
And now headed to the armory to double check you had out everything away for the 3rd time tonight...
Until a rough hand pulled you back to your senses.
And within a blazed moment you had turned, you face twisting into a snarl with the reflex of the adrenaline of the mission still blazing through you like a hot iron.
Until you realize it's your commander..and you slow your reflectance response to a down graded huff...and eye him wearily.
"Easy there Y/N... Come with me, there's something we need to discuss.."
His gaze seemed hard and cold. Proper for a general of his structure. Nodding you followed him, you bones screaming in ache as you listened him speak to you as you both stood a couple good feet away from prying ears..
"141 has requested your transfer under General Shepherds allowance...effective immediately."
"Sir I-"
"Keep your head down. And don't bare your teeth to the wrong chums Y/n..."
And with that..after a packing hour and a resignation in your belly..your apporoaching another chopper with a few British insignia on the tail of the metal beast that sets on the bases heli pad and turmac..
Leaving you to approach the belly of the chopper painstakingly. Your body is exhausted and just sick of the sticky feeling...only to find a man with a bucket hat on his head staring down at you with a hand out stretched and a cigar hanging out of his mouth..and your tempted by resignation to recoil and ignore his hand..
And yet: his voice breaks your surface of armor into a small buzz in your spine, "Gonna take my hand or are you going to waste time....."
His face winces against the crows feet at the corners of his eyes..and you immediately pick up where his tongue left off, falling the silence with a small olive branch to the mistrust in both your frames at something...new.
"Y/n."
His face loosens slightly as he grunts and speaks, bellowing cigar smoke out of his blanched lungs to relive the stress you could see in his broadened shoulders beneath his gear, "Price. Captain Price."
And with the help of his hand, you were in the belly of the beast that within a mere moment of you stepping into it had started to take off. And within even sooner than that, you had sat down, your back melting into a relieved spine, and you legs pleading with glee. And then you listened to Price speak as your body made itself relaxed and comfortable for the time being.
"So your the new gup' that Laswell was chattering bout'."
"Hm."
And with a deep sigh, he spoke once more. Perhaps letting off whatever thought he just had, off his nose, he looked serious doing it as his gaze met yours.
"We need someone on the team with a bite like yours. Whether or not you like it,you'rer in my hands till that Muppet of a general of yourspullsl the plug and ships you back home..so let's make this somewhat enjoyable, yeah?"
Firepower. And manpower.
All the help of what they can get.
And then, at that moment, you knew deep down that this was going to end in millions dead or utterly laying your life on the line.
And you knew what option you were going to take in the end at the end of the day.
.....
Soon arriving to the Base, you were met with an empty helo pad. Quiet. Strange to your usual busy in and out one back at...home?
Ignoring that thought, you followed Price out of the chopper and briskly charged through the base with him as he pointed and explained where what was where and what was what. Normal placement for everything, just like back at the other base other than a few things that'd be easy to memorize in a couple of days. And then it came to the barracks, you both passed down an empty hall only for you to see someone with a shaved mowhawk to be gawking at the mass of paperwork in his hands..
"You'll meet the rest of the
boys tomorrow..but this.. is Soap, Soap this is Y/n." and then he turned, and you watched as Soap grinned like A child as you and Price have stopped...the man now known to you as "Soap" had a thick scottish accent that lulled his tongue like a thick honey.
"Well look at ye..wee little thing they brough wit' us now eh? Run along now before the Captain leaves ya in the dust."
And with a swift nod, you followed After Price as he stopped in front of a room... most likely from what you can guess and using two and two alongside basic brain cells....yours.
"Goodnight Y/n."
Short. Swift. Like an executioners axe and striking down the deal.
You where stuck in a new base..new team. Everything..
"Good night, sir."
You then found yourself standing at the doorway of what was now your home for the next give or take time of how ever long.
Possibly your last.
Scoffing that thought, you gave thanks to Price as he patted your shoulder and left you to retire for the night as you then unpacked your two duffel bags but left your battle pack to the side for the night knowing you'd repack and go through it tomorrow.
And once you put your clothes in drawers and personal items and hygienic items on the small dresser that belonged to you.
Only then did you untie your boots and belt and slip out of your obviously worn boots before setting them next to your cot and with a groan you pulled out your phone and set your alarm to wake up on your usual sleep schedule other than the fact of a normal schedule for weeks for being deployed for such a long time..eight bloody fucking months..
And then you set it on your charger next to the cot or well bed.. and flopped uselessly on your cots padded bedding and groaned with a small relief of air leaving the expanse of your lungs and rendering you to bury like a bunny would beneath the covers and curl..
Finally, finding peace and rest for a mere moment of rest... knowing the night will be the last of your peaceful nights..
As soon as you were prime out of the crop of training, you were thrusted into war and now in the lap of a special forces team for..Britain..
Fucking brits...
Soon you'll be on even longer ones..higher stakes...but now is the now..and now you wanted to rest...and so here you were... utterly succumbing to sleep gladly...