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▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎
»»————- 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 — 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 & 𝙰𝚠𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰
𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵...
— ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ᴹᵃʳᵃᵇᵒˡⁱ
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DESPITE HER RELENTLESS RESISTANCE AND HOLLOW PROMISES THAT FELL ON DEAF EARS, the Major found herself draped over the shoulder of her skeptical ex-lover, who effortlessly carried her all the way to the infirmary. Initially attempting to struggle free, she quickly regretted her impulsive movements as searing pain shot up her spine, joining forces with the merciless throbbing in her head. "Gale, I'm fine for fuck's sake!" She protested as the man set her down, making her sit on the bed. "You were hit in the head with a fucking B-17, y/n. It's a miracle your cranium still intact." Scoffed the blonde, holding her down as she tried to get up and leave.
"That's because it was just a push!" She defended, her voice laced with defiance. "A push strong enough to cause blunt force trauma." He stated matter-of-factly, his tone unyielding. "We need a medic!" he called out, his voice cutting through the din, prompting bystanders to scramble for the doctors. "Major Cleven- Buck- I came here for Major l/n... Lemmons told me she was taken to the infirmary? I didn't realize her case was that serious!" Rushed in Thompson, barging into the tent outta literally no where. "It's not. I was leaving anyway." Scoffed the girl, glaring at the man who held her back against her will. "No, you're not. Not until the Doctor checks you out."
"Why?" She demanded, her tone sharp with defiance. "Because I suspect you might have a concussion, and leaving it untreated could lead to a disaster even bigger than today's." He replied calmly. "Bullshit. It was just a trickle of blood; besides, I haven't shown any signs of a concussion whatsoever." She countered, her voice tinged with frustration. "Well, I mean, you did lose your balance a couple of times earlier when I found you at the crash site. I'm no expert, ma'am, but temporary blackouts are a common symptom in minor concussions." Shrugged the engineer.
"You little-" She began, her anger bubbling to the surface, ready to unleash a tirade, only to be interrupted by the blonde Major, who was all too familiar with her volatile temper. "Thanks for that information, Ed. I'll handle things from here." Gale assured the man, acknowledging his concern with a nod. "And please, do find the doctor if you happen to come across him." He added as the man exited the room, offering a heartfelt wish for the girl's swift recovery. "Or don't, because I don't need him." y/n said loudly, hoping he'd hear. "Why are you like this?" Sighed the blonde, turning to the girl who simply smacked his arm away as he helped her lay down.
"We're only trying to help." He explained. "I don't need help. I can help myself fine." She snapped, the wounds of betrayal reopening with every syllable she uttered, unable to shake off the haunting memories of the day this man had walked away from her, leaving her shattered and alone in the wake of his departure. Every moment he lingered was a relentless torment, a cruel reminder of the gaping void he had left behind without explanation, apology, or the decency of a face-to-face confrontation. Her heart ached with the weight of unanswered questions, the pain of abandonment tearing at her soul with each passing second.
The man's heart clenched with the weight of her unspoken pain, a silent witness to the shattered pieces of her trust that he had callously discarded. Though guilt gnawed at his conscience like a persistent predator, he deemed it best to bury the past for the sake of professionalism. Yet, every passing minute in her presence served as a tenacious reminder of the irreversible damage he had wrought. He knew she would never forgive him, just as he could never forgive himself. But in the throes of youth, blinded by foolishness and drowned in regret, there were limits to what he could salvage.
The death of his mother had shattered his world, leaving him adrift in a sea of grief and self-destructive tendencies. Unable to bear the weight of his own sorrow, he chose to flee rather than confront the demons that haunted him. The day she succumbed to her alcoholism marked the beginning of his own descent into darkness, a path paved with regrets and missed opportunities. And now, as he stood before his ex-lover, the echoes of his past mistakes reverberated through the caverns of his soul, a haunting reminder of the price he had paid for his cowardice.
"Y/n, please just--" He attempted to utter words of solace, but she swiftly silenced him, her hand raised in a commanding gesture. "You've helped enough... Buck." She spat, enunciating each word with an icy disdain, highlighting the pain that had etched its mark on her heart. The tension between the two star-crossed lovers reached a fever pitch, a palpable electricity crackling in the air, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. In the depths of their souls, they both harbored the unshakeable conviction that their destinies were intertwined, yet the specter of past mistakes loomed large, casting a shadow over their fragile bond.
The damage wrought by their actions could not be undone, leaving behind a trail of heartbreak and regret that was excruciatingly overwhelming. But right before anything else could happen, a beaming Thompson burst into the room, once again, only with a doctor by his side this time. "Got him, Buck." Declared the engineer. "Perfect... I'll just uh, wait for you outside then, Major." Muttered the blonde, concealing his heartache once again — a skill he thought he had mastered until his reunion. "Later." She said, realizing how brash she had been all this while. 'Work and emotions do not mix, y/n. Don't let some clown ever cloud your mind like that again.'
"Hey, Meatball," Buck greeted with a faint smile as the friendly dog bounded up to him, offering a brief respite from the tumult of his thoughts. Patiently waiting outside the infirmary, he grappled with the uncertainty of his next move. Talking about the past seemed futile, a Pandora's box of emotions he wasn't sure he could handle. For so long, he had convinced himself that he was over it, but now, faced with the reality of the situation, avoidance felt callous and insensitive. Even if he mustered the courage to speak to his ex, what words could possibly bridge the chasm between them?
How could he broach the subject delicately, without reopening old wounds or inviting further pain? Did she even care about his remorse, or was he doomed to face her indifference? These questions plagued his mind, and wore down his heart with dauntless persistence. It felt as though he were trapped in a never-ending cycle of suffering, destined to endure the consequences of his past mistakes for eternity. "So, how'd it go with Ducky Dearest?" Teased a particularly nosy raven, not too far away from the husky, who was now resting his chin against the blonde's thigh.
"How'd it go with Huglin?" Cross-questioned Buck instead, not in the mood to discuss his personal affairs. "Probably as good as it went for you and l/n." He shrugged, taking the hint and plopping down on the seat beside him. "How is she anyway?" Egan asked, shocking his friend with his genuine concern for the girl. "Just a mild concussion if I'm not mistaken. Apparently she had temporary blackouts too earlier." Answered the Major. "That bad, huh?" The man remarked, rather surprised how she survived at all with her skull in one piece. "Didn't hit her too hard, as it had already crashed by then. But we cannot take any chances before the missions tomorrow."
Smirking at his friend's evident protectiveness over the girl, Egan couldn't help but mull over the enigmatic dynamic between the two. Having been acquainted with Buck for over five years and Duck for almost five weeks, he found himself intrigued by the depths of their tangled history. While he didn't possess the same intimate knowledge of y/n as his friend did, he had gleaned enough to recognize her as one of the genuine ones — fiery, perhaps, but undeniably good at heart. So what transpired between the two to warrant such palpable coldness from her? What lingering scars haunted the blonde, driving him to endlessly replay his past missteps? These questions weighed heavily on Egan's mind, a puzzle he couldn't quite unravel but felt compelled to understand nonetheless.
As he observed the interplay between his friend and the lady, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their story than met the eye, a narrative fraught with pain, regret, and perhaps, a glimmer of hope for redemption. But he was no fool, and knew when to keep his mouth shut when sober, and felt the need to change the topic for the sake of his friend's sanity. "I asked him for a demotion, by the way... Never thought I'd ever hear those words leave literally anybody's mouth until now." He sighed. "Well, as interesting as that sounds... I'd still like to know more about this unicorn incident." Buck said instead, appreciating the raven's attempt.
"Well, the unicorn is my favorite extinct animal. I thought you already knew that."
(1.5k words)
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