Whispering

Bending and swaying it dances in the slightest gust of air, bowing low only to spring up again. It can be increased to a roar or reduced to a whisper. It can be snuffed out, only to have it's kin revive it. The air practically shimmers near it's core. It would give off a pure tone if it could be heard. Primal and essential, it is a building block of our world.

Bells on the Wind

Wind breezes through the night air, carrying music to the late night lovers. Delicate tones reverberate off of the walls of the wide balcony, each ping as soothing as the one before. All the notes are different, yet there is no discord in the music. There is no pattern to the music except the rustle of the tree branches outside. The notes blend randomly into a midnight serenade.

Psychologist

Captain Laura Nelson sat at her desk considering the papers before her. She had been asked by Commander Hayes to evaluate the psychological state of the men in the late Major Cole's team. Flipping though the files again she read her notations. None of the men had been willing to talk to her at all, so what she knew she had gleaned from their behavior and minutely observing them in the aftermath of Major Cole's death.

First Lieutenant Steven Blackwood: Appears guilt ridden, trying to flee from reality. Drinking heavily, near exhaustion.

Second Lieutenant Brian Allard: Injured, refuses medication, some self destructive behavior

Second Lieutenant Mark Allard: Blames himself, puts on a good face for others but torn up inside.

Second Lieutenant Joseph Kendrick: Sees Major Cole's death as a reprise of his own brothers death, unwilling to deal with it.

Captain Nelson looked over her papers. She noted in the report a common thread of the men either not dealing with the loss or dealing with it in destructive ways.

Laura thought on the man that they had lost. David was bright and friendly when he opened up. A natural leader and teacher. He had advanced through the ranks swiftly after Commander Hayes had brought him to the base. His men had come to love and rely on him. She had not a doubt that each of them would have died in his stead. But she also knew David, knew that he would sacrifice himself rather than let any of his men die.

With regret Captain Nelson picked up her pen.

Recommend separation and reassignment due to risks of emotional and psychological damage to the personnel.

Laura hated what she was doing to them, but she had to think first of what was best for this command, for the base and for all the men here. Reluctantly Captain Nelson signed her name at the bottom of the paperwork and placed it in the out box. It would be delivered to the Commander first thing tomorrow morning.

Setting down her pen, Laura scooted her chair back from her desk and turned off the desk lamp before walking out the door.

Hays Gets the News

Commander Hayes sat stunned in his office. Steve had just left to have his wounds tended in the infirmary after having told Hayes what had happened. Hayes was used to men not coming back from battle. He had lost many good men, men that he had trained, men that he had grown to respect. Of all the people that had died in the battles that had been waged across the world; the thought that David would not come home had never crossed his mind. David had seemed so strong. He knew that it would have been foolish to assume that David would never get hurt, but he was shocked all the same.

Hayes sucked in a breath at the pain in his heart. It was like loosing a son. Hayes had never had a son, only three daughters. Hayes thought back to when he first met David. He had received intel that a young man, with no family to speak of was bent on revenge; his girlfriend recently killed by a powerful man. Hayes had found the young man easily enough; watched him for a few days. He could see the light in his eyes gradually going out, and then replaced with a look that he knew well, the desire for revenge.

Hayes had stopped David the night that he would have exacted his revenge, showed him another path, set him on a course to become more than what he was. He had watched with pleasure as David grew into a accomplished soldier. Watched him on his first mission, given him his first command. He knew that they were warned about becoming to attached to their men, but Hayes had disregarded the advice, he had become quite fond of David.

Hayes could tell just from the state that Steve was in, that all the men of the team would be having a hard time. Making a call he requested that the base psychologist speak to the men of Commander Cole's team.

Hanging up the phone, Hayes poured himself a shot of scotch and raised it high. "To you David. Friend, commander, brother, and son." Hayes knocked back the shot and shuddered.

Hayes began to fill out the proper reports, stopping to dab his eyes from time to time.

AWOL Joe

Joe stood on the edge of the beach, staring out to sea, the wind fingering through his hair. Joe watched the sun set over the waves. It had been a week now since he had left the base; a week since David's funeral. It felt like he had walked around in a fog the week leading up to the funeral. The psychologist had tried to get him to talk. He had flatly refused.

Even now, Joe could hardly bring himself to think of David's death. He had come to think of David as a brother. Alec could never be replaced, but it was like losing Alec again. David had always been there to help him, to be a friend. And now he was gone.

Joe reached into his pocket and drew out his phone when it went off. Glancing at the screen he saw that it was Steve. Drawing a breath, Joe accepted the call.

"Joe, where are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, if you are not back in two days, you will be labeled a deserter."

"I don't know if I want to come back."

"Joe, they will break up the team."

"Maybe that is for the best." Joe was finding it hard to care at the moment.

"Joe, please, come back. I want you to come back. You are family."

There was a long pause, "Alright. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Thank you Joe."

Joe hung up the phone. He silently cursed the fates that had robbed him of two brothers.

Fractured

Mark was hesitant to leave Brian's side in the hospital. He knew that Brian was in pain; both physically and mentally, but he was trying his best not to show it. Mark knew however. You can't hide anything from your twin.

Yawning, Mark stood up to relieve the kinks in his body. He had slept in the hospital chair again, even though Brian had told him to go home. Brian had even tried to order him to go get some real sleep; however, Mark was quick to point out that not only were they the same rank, and therefore he couldn't order him around, but Mark was the older by five minutes.

Mark yawned again, rubbing his eyes. His sleep had not been restful since before the mission two weeks ago. He kept feeling the ground shake with explosions; the heat from the blasts, searingly hot. He also couldn't get the image of David going down out of his mind. Mark's mind unwillingly played back over that night. Again and again. Brian was down with two bullets and losing blood fast, Joe was breaking through the lines to clear them an exit. Steve had come over to help carry Brian, and when Mark looked back at David, he had seen him jerk forward as a bullet took him in the back. He couldn't get David's face out of his mind.

The psychologist had tried to corner him, but he had sidestepped her, making an excuse and a vague promise to come to meet with her. Mark shook his head; he had no intentions of seeing her.

Mark took to pacing his brothers hospital room, his footsteps light and whisper quiet. He wished there was something he could have done. If he had been one second faster, one degree better, if he had gathered better intel on the op, David might still be alive today. They would still be a team. Mark couldn't shake the feeling that this had been his fault.

Mark sighed, there was not even anyone in David's family that he could pay his respects to. David had no family. They, the team, was his family. And now it was fractured.

Bryan is Stuck

Brian was stuck in the hospital. He hated hospitals. He especially hated being in the hospital for something that could have been avoided if he were more careful. Brian looked down at his leg and over at his bandaged shoulder. He had taken a shot in the leg that had shattered the femur, and a shot thorough his shoulder; the bullet ripping clean through; just under his collar bone. Mark and Steve had carried him to safety.

Brian ground his teeth in frustration. He wanted to be doing something, anything. He looked over at the sleeping form of his twin. Mark, he knew, was taking this really hard. Not only was he injured, but they were both dealing with David's death. They had only let him out of the hospital long enough to attend David's service.

Brian winced, any twitch of his body causing pain. Brian didn't call for more medication when his morphine wore off. He wanted to feel anything but the pain of loss, even the pain from his wounds. He knew that this pain would fade; but not the pain from David's death. He had looked up to David as another brother, as a leader, and a friend, both of them had.

Brian's vision blurred as he thought of David, his commander. The pranks that they had pulled, the council that he had given, and the laughter that they had shared. The psychologist had come to see him here in the hospital, but he had not felt like talking. The pain was still to fresh. The psychologist had left the room, shaking her head and making notes on a pad.