bakerstreet | Away at War / Left Behind

Away at War / Left Behind

Left Behind: Away at War/Battle

Da da da dadadadadadada, charge!

We all know war can be a hard time for everyone but those left behind? It can be torture. Hoping you get a letter or a call, staying glued to the television and cringing at those news stories. Guess what happens to you now? Your loved one has gone off to fight a war (battle, fight, in that ilk of things) and some time has passed. Sadly the letters and e-mails have stopped so you are left wondering the fate of your loved one. What do you do? Do you move on or are you holding on to hope they'll come back?

1. Post as your characters (List whether you prefer to be the one left behind or the returnee).
2. Others go to RNG and roll 1-8 for a scenes then respond.
3. Feel free to make up your own scenes too!
4. Respect others' preferences!
5. Have fun!
6. Angst away!

One: You get a call, or you get a knock at the door. You are told the person you love is dead and you feel like your whole world has caved in. The healing takes time but after awhile you pick up the pieces and you've finally moved on. You've never forgotten them and you know they'd want you to be happy. Then one day you get another call and you feel like you've been punched in the gut. Surprise! Your loved one is alive and has been rescued. What do you do now? Or if you are the one returning home how do you handle knowing the person you love is with another? Do you try to get them back? Or do you let them stay happy and walk away?

Two: You are so relieved to hear that they've found your loved one. You go to the hospital to see them but when you go to kiss them they stop you. Oh...wait...they have a big chunk of their memory gone. Oh no! Can you get them to remember your lives together? Does it hurt too much that you walk away rather than deal with it? You with the memory loss do you try to find yourself letting this person guide you. Do you refuse and walk away? Are those memories ever return, or are they gone forever?

Three: They have come back safe and sound. Though they cringe away from your touch and can be a little violent. Something about them has changed because of what they've seen. They rarely sleep and when they do they wake up screaming. The intimacy seems to be gone because you can't seen to get close to them. Can you handle it? Can you work with them? Or have you had enough? Do you leave? The returnee how do you feel? Do you wish you could just hold them and be normal again? Do you seek help or think you can handle it yourself?

Four: Even before they left it was as if the love was gone between the two of you. Plans have been made to break-up or divorce but after the hell they went through? You feel obligated to stay. You try your best to rekindle what was lost but it's gone. Finally you are at the breaking point and it's time to tell your significant other that it's over. You want to end it. Either one of you has this feeling and are acting to end the charade. Ready to break it to the hometown hero or to your sweetheart that waited for you?

Five: You've lost them and it was just too much for you. People have told you to move on yet you never could. Now you get a call. They've been found but it's unclear if they'll make it. Better hurry and rush to their side just in case. You don't want them to go without you getting to tell them one last time you love them just in case. Alternately you are injured and you know it might be the end and you refuse surgery until you get to see them one last time. You want them to know you love them.

Six: You lost your other half and you still aren't over it. Might be that little one asleep in the other room that has their eyes or smile. You are always reminded of what you lost when you look at that. The sad part is you never got to tell them the good news. Never got to hear their excitement. Or maybe you had an adoption in motion and were just waiting and it happened while they were gone. It still reminds you of what you and your love had planned for their future. Then you get the call they were found, and now you are nervous. How will they get along with their child? Will they still want that life? How do you take it the first time you see your eyes when looking at the child?

Seven: Finally news comes in and they've been found and you couldn't be happier. They were injured pretty badly and had to undergo surgery. They are alive but they've lost a limb or one of their senses. How do you two deal with this? Do you try to work on it together? Do you leave unable to handle it? Or let your loved one go so they can have a normal life? It'll be a long stressful road, can the relationship survive? For better or for worse?

Eight: Make up your own if I've missed something.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Most likely the soldier, but not a necessity!]

[Open to either.]

[It has been a year and a half. Sherlock, as always, hid just how much John's death had affected him. He still went to Bart's - he just made sure to never cross 'that' spot again. All of John's few personal items were moved into John's room, so Sherlock wouldn't be faced with seeing them everyday. That had been done a week after John's funeral - when Sherlock was sure that John really was dead. Mrs Hudson and Mycroft came to an agreement that allowed Sherlock to stay at 221B. Both of them were very concerned, so it was better to just let him stay where they could keep an eye on him.]

[The only small comfort was that Moriarty was dead as well. Though, a part of Sherlock wished he were alive, so he could exact his revenge. But, John was dead and Moriarty was dead, all he could do was pretend nothing had happened. Sherlock had never been sentimental. But, today, he found himself near the churchyard where John was buried. With the most recent case solved and not really having a desire to return home, Sherlock went to stand in front of John's grave. He was pleased to find it was well cared for - but, between Mrs Hudson and Harry, it would be. Sherlock stood there in silence, feeling ridiculous for being here at all, he certainly isn't going to start talking.]

[Hunting them all down hadn't been easy. It wasn't that he wasn't used to the blood on his hands- he was, in the most regrettable way imaginable. It had to be done, though. Yes, it... it had to be done. And it was only right for him to be the one to do it. Otherwise, they might've...

He doesn't want to imagine what could have happened. It wasn't easy to blend in, to fake it, to move his way up the ranks and finally finish off the man himself. He'd been a nutter- seriously, the craziest psychopath John has ever encountered. Not to mention the many arms in his organization that kept themselves mostly secret, mostly hidden.

At long last, it was done. He could go home. More than anything, he just wanted... to go home.

Mrs. Hudson nearly had a heart attack. It took her nearly two hours to explain everything- how he was assumed to be dead, that the funeral had been a lovely service. How Sherlock had been. He'd asked if she knew where the man in question was. 'I expect so, dear...'

Which is how he ended up at a graveyard in the fading light of a sunday evening, staring at his flatmate's back quietly.

Because he hadn't really expected... this.]

[Sherlock stands there quiet for a long time. When he speaks, his soft, low voice carries gently on the breeze.]

I... told you once heroes didn't exist.... I qualified that by saying if they did... I wouldn't be one of them...

[Sherlock slowly sank to his knees and rested a hand on the cold marble.]

That's because I knew I could never....

["Be like you," went unsaid. He paused.]

You idiot! It was supposed to me me!

[It isn't that John didn't expect Sherlock to perhaps miss him a little. The man is human, after all, no matter what the people who don't know him say. He just hadn't expected... He'd always thought Sherlock had been more important to him than he'd ever been to the other man. Just because- well, who was he? A blogger, not a brilliant, clever maniac. And the consulting detective was always so busy, moving on from one thing to the next with a manic energy. He hadn't expected to be missed for very long.

He certainly hadn't expected graveside speeches of regret.

...Or to be called an idiot post-mortem. He blinked, then frowned.]

Charming. You insult all of your friends' headstones?

[He spoke up finally, voice soft and light, because he just... couldn't stand back and watch anymore. It felt like intruding, like reading his best mate's diary or something, even though it was technically to him.

Letting it carry on any longer was cruel, and that was one thing John wasn't.]

[Sherlock was in a moment of weakness - or he wouldn't have come here to begin with. He thinks the voice he hears is his imagination - after all, John is dead.]

Only the first time I visit post-funeral.

[He replies, because, what the hell, get his psychotic break out of the way before anyone realises he's had one.]

[Well, this certainly wasn't good. He stepped forward, then, a slow and tentative pace, to stand beside where the other man was kneeling.

On the bright side, it was a nice headstone. He's seen worse. Even if it is a bit simple.]

What, no weekly visits? Flowers on my grave? Robert Frost recitations?

[That, too, is light and almost teasing, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

It disappears almost instantly.

Carefully, hesitantly, he pressed a hand to Sherlock's shoulder.]

You... do realize I'm standing right here?

[Sherlock huffs his reply to the questions.]

Sentiment.

[But then, there's a hand on his shoulder. He slowly looks up, then falls away as he sees John. He backs away, but it stopped by the headstone next to John's.]

No! It... can't be....

[He closes his eyes and rubs his temples - not unlike he did in Dartmoor all that time ago.]

[Sentiment indeed. He wasn't actually expecting it, but seeing Sherlock's reaction to the implication was hilarious nonetheless.

Or it would be, if he wasn't so sure his friend thought himself to be having a mental breakdown.

He doesn't move closer, because freaking his friend out isn't going to help matters.]

It can. It is, in fact. Right here. Come on, then. Suss it out- I never died. Not sure I want to know what you put in the casket, as a matter of fact.

I saw you fall.... I saw your body surrounded by blood...

[He closes his eyes to try to piece it together.]

But not hit....

[He opens them, a fire has returned that wasn't there moments ago and his voice becomes dangerous.]

Who helped you?

[Sorry, John, no way Sherlock is going to believe you did this yourself.]

You saw a body.

[And he's sorry. He really is. It was the only way, though. He was there, right there as Moriarty explained it all, fed them lies and went on and on about his snipers, his gunmen, his assassins, how he'd have them killed and everyone they cared about. Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, his sister.

He pursed his lips together. So much happened in this last year and a half. So many things, shady things that he's not exactly proud of. He shook his head slowly.]

Doesn't matter. It's done. I finished it. They're dead.

Molly.

[He practically growls the name. He looks up at John and then moves quickly, flinging himself at John in an attempt to takle John to the ground. All this happens as he screams.]

I.THOUGHT.YOU.WERE.DEAD!!!!

[Well. He figured that out quick. Poor Molly. At least she doesn't have to worry about being tackled to the ground.

Which he wasn't expecting either, so he goes down easily, his back hitting the grass and knocking the breath out of him. It takes him a second for his vision to clear, and he grips Sherlock's lapels and heaves out a cough from the impact.]

I know- I'm- [A wheeze.] sorry, I had to, it was the only thing keeping you alive.

[Sherlock then wraps his fists into John's lapels. But what John says makes him pause - sometimes being a genius works against him. But all fight goes out of him as he speaks.]

You're sorry you kept me alive?

[Because, logically that is was John just said... sort of.]

[That actually draws him up short, and he binks. Tilts his head to the side, grass sticking into his hair.]

What? No-

[Stupid geniuses. He gives the grip on Sherlock's coat a little reprimanding jerk.]

I'm sorry for hurting you, you idiot. If I could have told you, I would've.

Oh.

[Idiot, indeed. Sherlock takes a calming breath, then slowly sits up, helping John to sit up too, if he needs it.]

Eighteen months....

[He does sit up, stiffly tugging his leg up a little as well to rest his elbow on. Granted, the limp was psychosomatic, but the stress of this last year... It's been tough.

He passes a hand over his face and turns his gaze toward the ground.]

I know.

[He does. Eighteen months was a long time. Forever, really.]

But I finished it. That's what matters.

How did you finish it?

[He doesn't give John a chance.]

No. Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped...

[He pulls a face at the question. And thank you, Sherlock, for that brilliant vote of confidence.]

I can understand how it might be a shock for you to know that other people are, in fact, capable of accomplishing things without your help.

[It's mostly teasing, but this isn't something he intends to make light of. It was a year and a half of hell. He shook his head.]

You can't have gotten involved. They would have killed you. As long as they thought you were suffering, put in your place, they'd have waited. The second you posed a threat... He hand things in place you wouldn't believe. Contingency plans for contingency plans.

[He breathed out a sigh. It was a lot like war in that respect. The thing is, he was good at war. He was a soldier.]

Most of them thought I was dead. It's probably what kept me alive.

I don't understand... The kidnapped kids, the article....

[He looked John up and down.]

How did you... [He growls again.] Mycroft. So did everyone know but me?

[He considers the question for a second.

Chews on his cheek.]

I think we forgot to tell Mrs. Hudson?

[What seems like a thousand emotions flutter across Sherlock's features in a few brief seconds. Suddenly he stands.]

Yes. Well...

[And he turns to leave. More trying to run away from himself than John.]

[It takes him a second, he has to blink before he realizes Sherlock's taking off, and he hobbles up to his feet right behind the other man.]

Wait, really? What, that's it?

[He can't tell if Sherlock is angry, or if he's really just... over this whole ordeal and moving on already.]

[As Sherlock's strides lengthen and his feet find the ground more firmly, it's clear that he's leaving in anger. After a few steps he pauses.]

That's it. So much to do, since everyone else knew but me...

[That's the part that really hurt. Not John jumping, not even John lying to him, but that everyone else knew but him.]

...It's clear you don't need me.

[...or want me...]

[So that's what it is. Couldn't stand to be out of the loop because he could have executed this whole thing so much better than John. Is that it? Is that how it's going to be? He stalks forward, picking up his pace to match Sherlocks.]

Now, hang on just a moment-

[And then the second statement hits. It's clear you don't need me.

...What? His gate falters for just a second.]

You can't seriously be that big of an idiot. Don't need you? Why on earth d'you think I've done all this? What, you think I spent a year and a half going through hell just for a laugh? Have you even been paying attention to anything I've-

[He cuts himself off and shakes his head. Passes a hand over his mouth.]

You are the stupidest smart person I know.

[Sherlock does stop and turns to face John. He quietly - seemingly emotionless - takes it all in. He thinks about John's last statement and responds to that.]

Quite possibly. Eighteen months is a long time... I think I am loosing mental capacity with age.

[He means, "You did this to me, John, and I don't know how to recover."]

[ either role! particularly interested in 2, 3, 5, & 7. ]

[probably left behind!]

[When the Reserves came calling, Miles couldn't say no, as much as he wanted to stay. Although the distance was hard, he tried as best he could to keep communication going. At first, he called as much as he could, did the whole Skype thing, and of course sent letters off once a week. But then things got intense, and he got captured, spending months held captive, never knowing if the next day would be his last. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of the man waiting for him at home.]

[ When the Skype calls grew less frequent and the letters stopped, Q first got annoyed, then angry, then...the fear set in. He put his considerable reach to work, hacking CCTV, spending hours upon hours before work, after work, occasionally during work when none of the agents needed his immediate supervision looking for Miles.

He couldn't tell the others what he was doing. It simply wasn't done, but he can't bring himself to give up.

Month pass, though, and Miles isn't 007. No one is quite like 007, with his uncanny ability to come back from the dead. And though it hurt to do, Q is finally able to compartmentalize, close that chapter of his life, throw himself properly back into work. ]

[At first, it was easy to keep track of how many days had passed, but each week that passed with no sign of anyone coming to the rescue, and Miles begins to feel despondent. This was never supposed to happen. He just wanted to do his job and go home and be happy. Three months on, and he's almost lost all hope. Still, though, he doesn't completely give up, wanting nothing more than that day when he'll be reunited with Q.

Eight months in, and that rescue finally comes, although as much as he begs to just go home, he's taken to a hospital for recovery first. He hadn't been hurt, unlike many other captives, but he's skinny and malnourished and would probably need more long months of slow rehabilitation, not to mention therapy.

Day three, back in the city, and all Miles can do is stare at the telephone, wanting to call, but not quite sure of what the reaction would be. For all intents and purposes, everybody probably thinks he's dead.

But finally, he picks it up and dials a very familiar number, his heart almost beating out of his chest.]

Edited 2013-02-12 00:43 (UTC)

[ When his phone goes off, Q barely glances at it. It's not his work phone and he's busy, coding a virus that would cause facial recognition software to focus on everything but an 80%-or-higher match.

Then, his brain catches up.

His personal phone rarely ever rang anymore. Hardly ever, in fact. He snatches it up, staring at the number for a long moment before answering. ]

If that's you, Bond, this is a very poor joke indeed.

[Each ring that goes unanswered has Miles' heart dropping further in his chest. What if he'd gotten the number wrong? Was that even possible, considering how many times he'd called it before? Had the number been changed?

So many thoughts run through his mind, and he can't help the way his hand begins to shake. What the hell was he supposed to do if this was it?

But then, there's a very familiar voice at the end of the line, and for a moment, Miles is speechless.]

No. It's - um ... it's me. Miles.

[ His entire body goes cold. ]

Miles?

[ It's not possible. Nothing Q had done turned up anything and no one can hide from Q and his sources for that long. Eight months. Eight months.

But...

But this is Miles's voice. ]

...Where are you?

I - King's College, I think. I didn't ask, and I've been in and out ever since I arrived. I'm ... dehydrated and malnourished and I think I tried to put up a fight and leave.

All I know is that the most important thing was contacting you. I'm here. I'm ... okay.

I know you probably thought that I was dead.

[His voice wavers slightly - really, this is almost too much to take in.]

Stay put. Stay awake.

[ As he speaks, he is already at work, putting out a distress signal. If the local emergency services aren't enough, he'll have MI6 send out their ranks. For now, though, he'd prefer to keep his personal and professional lives separate as much as possible. ]

I'll have an ambulance there in fifteen minutes, faster if I can help it.

Trust me, I'm not going anywhere.

[There are no words to describe everything that Miles is feeling, and all at once. Of course there's nothing more than he wants then to see Q again, but he'd have wanted it to happen when he wasn't so ... skinny, and bruised, and exhausted.]

I'm sorry that I made you worry. Will I - will I get to see you soon?

I'll meet the ambulance at the hospital.

[ Already he's calling for a taxi, locating his coat and scarf, tucking his work phone into the large pocket. His personal phone he keeps tucked between ear and shoulder. ]

Is the ambulance coming? Can you hear it yet?

Okay. Okay - you'll be there and that's all that matters. I'm not ... I don't ... look my best.

[Miles isn't going to hang up until he absolutely has to, and doesn't, not even when his nurse arrives to tell him that the transfer order has come in.]

I think ... yeah. It's not here yet, but it's close.

I'm transferring you to St. Bart's, at least for now. It's nearby.

[ He slides into his taxi. ]

I'll stay on until I'm there, if you'd like.

Good. Close ... that's a good thing. Been too long since I've been as close as I'd like.

[The siren gets closer, and Miles knows he's going to have to hang up soon. He's not sure why, but the thought of being out of contact has him very anxious.]

I can't. I don't have a phone. Not one I can bring along.

Note to self: get Miles another cell. Right.

[ The joke's a weak one, but he's never been particularly good at them. ]

It's all-right. I know where you are now; I won't lose you again. Don't worry.

[It might not have won any comedy awards, but it did make Miles chuckle, albeit very softly.]

Hopefully you don't take a detour to pick one up. I need to see you more than I need a phone.

Promise? I know that I don't intend on doing anything like this ever again. Oh - [he pauses, listening to the nurse's instructions.] - the ambulance is here. I have to hang up. I don't want to, but at least when I get there, I know you'll be there, too.

I'll be there. Go.

[ And in the meantime, Q can begin figuring out who and why Miles was taken in the first place. Ten more minutes on the taxi is plenty of time. ]

[That's all Miles needs to hear, and as much as he doesn't want to hang up, he knows that he needs to. He doesn't want to say 'goodbye', so he doesn't, offering a quiet 'see you there' before he hangs up, allowing the ambulance attendants to wheel him out of his room and into the ambulance.

It's not a long trip, but still, he fights to keep his eyes open. He doesn't want to be asleep when he arrives.]

[ He's there and waiting when the ambulance drives up, bickering quietly with Tanner about "proper use of MI6 influence" due to his having pulled a few strings to get in at this time of night. He cuts the conversation short, giving Miles a strained smile as he's wheeled in on the gurney. ]

You look terrible.

[At least there was a good reason for it, and hopefully they'd understand. It takes every bit of willpower that Miles has in his body not to completely fall apart, although the threat is still there.]

I missed you, too.

[ He reaches over, squeezing Miles's hand gently. ]

Let the doctors take a look. I'll be here.

[As difficult as it is to let go after so long apart, Miles knows that it's for the best.]

I don't know what I'm going to do if I wake up and this has all been a dream.

It isn't. Go on, Miles.

Don't think I'm allowed to say no, even if I wanted to. Hopefully it's quick, 'cause I've spent all the time away that I care for.

[He's beginning to be rolled into an examination room, but still, he tries to watch for as long as he can. th exam turns out to be very thorough, but within the hour, he's in his room.]

[ He's sitting the corner on his phone when Miles is brought in, and he waits until the nurses have left before he approaches the bed. ]

...Hey.

[Miles is so tired, but coming in and seeing that he's not alone makes all the difference. He'd adamant that he's going to stay awake for as long as he possibly can, not wanting to miss a moment of this reunion. He offers just the smallest of smiles, and a hand.]

Hi.

[ He takes the hand, squeezing gently. ]

You should sleep. I'll be here.

I will. Just - you know, would you talk to me? I've missed so much, I'm sure. Doesn't matter what you say, I just need some sort of human contact.

What should I talk about? You know I can't talk about work, and that's mostly what I've been doing.

I know, and I wouldn't ask. [He heaves a soft sigh, and squeezes the hand holding his.] I - I want to apologize again. I know this is a shock, and I'm sure that you must have thought ... that I was dead.

I did.

[ He sighs. ]

I could read to you, if you'd like.

I'm sorry. I never would have thought anything like this would have happened. I didn't want to worry you. I can't imagine what it must have felt like - I'm so sorry.

[Still, he nods, wondering if he moved over, there would be enough room for the both of them. All he wants is more contact.]

Please. I'd like that.

[ He sits himself down at the edge of the bed, pulling up a book. ]

Something simple and mindless, I suppose. Will Harry Potter do?

[That's nice. It's not exactly what Miles is hoping for, but then, it is a hospital bed, and really rather small.]

One of my favorites. ... Will you do voices, as well?

[His smile is much more genuine when he asks.]

I don't do voices.

[ But he might try. Because it's Miles and it's been months. ]

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Even if I asked nicely? I could even say pretty please with a cherry on top.

[Really, it's more than enough to ask for, just having him here, and knowing that it's not a dream, like it's been so many times before. It doesn't take much more than that sentence to have Miles yawning, struggling to keep his eyes open.]

We'll see, Miles. We'll see.

[ Thankfully, there isn't any dialogue for a bit. Enough to see if he'll have to make a fool of himself when he's inevitably joined by someone from work.

Maybe Miles will fall asleep before then. ]

Alright, alright, I'll stop being difficult.

[Really, only because he's comfortable enough to yawn, and to allow himself the luxury of relaxation. Although he doesn't want to fall asleep, he knows that a bit part of his recovery will be getting a lot of rest.]

Just so glad that you're here.

[Either role, and feel free to crossover AU]

Edited 2013-02-10 13:18 (UTC)

((ooc: Probably the soldier but could be a different role, whatever you have in mind is good. Also open to AUs and shipping.))

[The first call came on a bright, early Sunday morning - and AJ dropped her favorite coffee mug, watching it shatter on the floor in a million pieces, just like her heart.

It's been a long time since that first call, and although AJ wouldn't say she's healed, not by any stretch of the imagination, she can get out of bed every day and function like a normal human being. She can go to work, and she can help patrons, and she can smile and joke and be pleasant, but there is most definitely a spark missing from her once happy eyes.

It only makes sense that the second call comes late at night, pulling her out of another fitful slumber, causing her to collapse in a heap in tears - both relieved and terrified.

Things have definitely changed since he's been gone. And she's not exactly sure how he's going to react when he finds out.]

[The soldier that ~~went nuts and~~ got left behind in canon, so have at.]

[ New muse, may be a bit slow.]

Edited 2013-02-10 13:48 (UTC)

[Pushing through crowds, around people, past couples that have already been reunited. Tripping over bags and suitcases, over children that are running around playing. Looking for that one face that she knows so well but not finding him among the crowds.

For a moment, she panics, thinking that something had happened. That he wasn't coming home and she wouldn't see him. Sam stopped pushing through people, breathing heavily and trying to relax. He was coming, he had to be. She'd gotten a notice.

And then she glanced around one more time and spotted him, smile spreading across her lips she pushed between a few more people and towards him. Before either of them would know it, her arms are wrapped around him and she's crying.]

[ He'd been searching the crowd as well, when he'd stepped off the plane, his gaze dismissing most of the others as he picked his way through, at least until he caught sight of that familiar blonde head.

She hadn't changed, that was obvious, aside from some more worry lines around her eyes, but the smile on her face was enough to make him stop, letting her come to him before his arms wrapped around her. ]

"I'm home.

[One hand rose, awkwardly sliding over her hair. He hated it when she cried, even if he knew it was for a good reason this time. ]

[Worry lines that she would wear proudly because it meant she loved him, that she had worried over him and, now, she had him back. For awhile, and it didn't feel like it was long enough, she just held onto him and re-memorized everything about him that she could.]

Finally. I've been here since early this morning.

[She hadn't slept, had driven half the night to try to exhaust herself so she would sleep and then finally decided to just drive to the airport and get a cup of coffee to wait.]

[The Doctor had been consulting for the SG team. Apparently there was quite a bit of confusion, lost calculations, and high tensions as Colonel had been missing for quite some time. Well, a really long time, if you asked the Doctor, although he managed to merge a timeline or two back together. But semantics!

The Colonel was able to come back through the stargate, and that's all that mattered, correct?]

[ Actually the Stargate had been destroyed while he was in the middle of trying to talk the natives out of making the situation they were in worse by their own stupidity. His arrival home was due to the fact that he'd ended up on a world that fell under the Asgard's protection, not that it kept them from internal conflict, just from outside threats.

So one moment the gate room is empty and then there's a flash of light and he's there, looking exhausted but alive which is better than a lot of the people he'd left behind on the planet.]

You're still here?

Well...! [The Doctor saunters out of the corner, but is pushed past by the medical team eager to look over O'Neill. Never the less, he stand just far enough to offer a grin of amusement and tucks his hands away in the pockets of his pin-stripped trousers.]

I brought you back, thank you.

Thor brought me back.

So why are you here and not off annoying the Goa'uld?

Because I was asked to stay and try to figure out the mess you were stuck in.

[Although a small percentage of that was, in fact, the Doctor's fault as a small portion of his physics he had calculated wasn't quite accurately done, but he wasn't going to confess that bit out yet.]

You look like you're alright. Find anything while lost?

[Daniel had come immediately down to the hospital, leaving right in the middle of the lecture he'd been giving to the newest SG members. Over a year had gone by with SG-1 split up; with Jack gone, things had just fallen apart.

Now Daniel lingered at the door of the patient room, suddenly reluctant to go in. Jack was alive, back, and he was relieved as hell to hear it. But, the doctor had warned him, not all in one piece. He cleared his throat]

....Jack?

[ The sound of Daniel's voice made him turn his head, slthough he was more looking in the man's general direction than at his face directly. The bomb had gone off early and he'd still been in range which was why he was currently in this bed, eyes bandaged even now. He wanted to pull them off, but as long as they were there, he could pretend. But hearing Daniel's voice at least gave him something to focus on other than the thoughts in his own head. ]

...Daniel.

[Oh god. They'd only said he'd been injured, not exactly how, but it's pretty clear to what degree. Daniel pulls up a seat.]

I came as quickly as I could. How're you feeling now?

One hell of a headache. [ He can hear the scrape of the chair and the sound of fabric against fabric as he shifts to sit up on the bed. ]

They tell you anything?

[he puts out an arm to steady Jack, and then to press him gently to lie back]

They said you were back and you'd been hurt. What happened out there?

Edited 2013-02-11 11:38 (UTC)

[ When Daniel touched him, he stilled, although lying back down grated on his nerves. He didn't want to be here.]

Didn't move fast enough. Got hit by flying debris.

[At least he didn't fight him. Daniel let his hand slide from Jack's shoulder, and glancing to make sure they weren't being watched, let his hand rest on Jack's wrist. He wasn't alone.]

You've always moved fast enough before. The mission went that badly, huh?

I was more focused on something else than my own safety. [ Jack shifted his hand, moving it just enough that his fingers closed over Daniel's hand for a moment.]

They say there's a chance in time, that they can fix the damage, but for now...

[Most likely playing the role of a soldier.]

((OOC: Either left or worried about someone having been left. His mother would really be the only one worried about him as he's off to war of sorts with his uncle and brother.))

((ooc: hullo! Maybe they were separated, someone got hurt or taken prisoner or something? idk))

[((OOC: Oh! Would you rather Kili or Thorin be injured? Ugh. Or we could hurt Fili. Or have Kili separated from his brother. He'd go nuts.]

((hmm...what about this? Fili and Kili are doing something together, Fili goes missing, and Kili is injured. And Uncle Thorin is mostly in one piece, but say he was injured earlier and hasn't been cleared to fight again, so he goes to take care of Kili))

((OOC: Oh that works perfect!!! I'll write us up something after lunch!))

((sounds good!))

[He can't leave. This area is the last place he'd seen his brother before those wargs had separated them, of that he's certain. Limping through the crags and around the trees honestly isn't helping anything save for the flow of blood that is only increasing. His coat is soaked with it and mud and sweat.]

Fili!

[His voice is growing hoarse. He's so dehydrated that he can no longer even cry. When the search party finds him, he can't even speak. And, luckily, he passes out before they have to drag him back to camp. It's a fitful sleep his body has forced him into. When he wakes again, however, all that remains of his brother is one sword and nothing more. No one cares to tell Thorin's nephew of their lack of evidence.]

Edited 2013-02-10 20:58 (UTC)

[Thorin had been the first to hear of his nephews' fates. Conveniently enough, Kili was taken to the same safe house where Thorin had been staying while he recovered. When Kili woke, he would find his uncle at his side, looking weary and grieved.]

Thorin!

[For a moment there, he'd nearly assumed it to be his brother. But Kili has his uncle's hair. Fili's is like their father's.]

Thorin, I'm so sorry-- We tried and... Where is my brother?

One thing at a time. [Thorin brushes a strand of hair out of Kili's face.] I understand it was a difficult battle. You fought as a true warrior of Durin.

[As pleased as he is by that, and as pale and injured as he is, Kili still tries to get up.]

Was he injured?

[Thorin gently pushes him back down to the cot.] Fili is missing. I am told they searched extensively, but were unable to find him. [His voice is soft, knowing the news will be difficult to hear.]

[He might have been all right if it didn't dawn on him that Thorin had used past tense. Searched. ]

I will find him!

[But he glances at the hand on his chest.]

Uncle. Let me up.

You are badly injured, Kili. [His voice is quiet but firm.] I cannot allow you to leave. I will look for him myself later.

I feel fine!

[Never mind that he can barely breathe. His ribs have been wrapped. One arm has been bound to his side. His lips are pale. Cracked.]

Please. Please... Please let me up!

I understand. I do. I sorely want to be looking for him. You and Fili are very important to me, but I swore I would do everything in my power to keep you and your brother safe. Please, Kili. Do notmake this more difficult.

[Kili knows the stories. Thorin had lost his brother in battle too. Lost all of his kin besides him and his mother and brother...]

He might be hurt. He needs me...

[He's never been away from Fili for any real length of time. ]

I know. [The odds of findinf Fili are dwindking by the minute and it's driving Thorin mad, but he knows he may be the only one who can keep Kili from doing anything stupid.] You ought to rest.

[Rest. He wants to pull off his skin and Thorin deems he should rest? Kili lays back against the pillows, knowing very well that it's pointless to argue.]

Send another party out.

[He's never once demanded anything in his life, other than to come on this journey.]

Send two. One in each direction.

[Thorin's more or less helped raise Kili from boyhood. He knows better than most how rare it is for him to issue any sort of order. He nods once and walks away, ordering two dwarves to put search parties together and leave immediately. That accomplished, he returns to his nephew's bedsid.] I would try to reassure you, but I do not believe in empty words.

We will find him.

[Of that he's sure. A very small smile appears on his face even as his eyes cloud over with tears.]

He drew them from me. Climbed a tree and pelted their noses with his throwing knives. You would be proud, Thorin.

[Thorin nods again, his voice shaking slightly.] I am always proud of you and your brother.

[He needs to keep speaking of Fili, his chest clenching and his throat closing up.]

Be sure to tell him when he's found. He looks up to you so much--

[And so does Kili. His father died when he was very young. Thorin, his mother's brother, has always been so very good to him. A father figure. More than that. A role model.]

[Thorin nods wordlessly. After a moment of quiet grief, he reaches to cover Kili's bloodstained hand with his own.] We will have him back with us soon.

It should have been me.

[Kili's dark eyes turn to fixate on his uncle. Thorin and Fili share the same eyes with his mother and looking up at the king is enough to send him into torment.]

He would never have left me if I had been the one to draw them away.

Whether it should have been, or should not have been, doesn't matter. It happened, Kili. There is nothing we can do to change the past. Misplaced guilt will do you no good. [He gives his hand a gentle squeeze.]

You and your brother share a unique bond. If you had been in his position, you would have done the same for him. Would you have allowed him to blame himself if it had been you?

[And this, if for no other reason, is why Thorin is a good father figure. Kili, pale and helpless as he might be for the moment, clutches at his uncle's hand as tightly as he can.]

No. And he'd hit me soundly for carrying on this way.

I have no doubt he would. [He gives Kili a small, reassuring smile. He has always sought to be someone the boys can trust and rely on. Not a replacement for their father, exactly, but certainly a good uncle and friend.]

[Kili barely remembers his father. He was just a small thing when he joined the last campaign for Erebor, following the same path they were now with very little success. He'd perished, and now Fili, who had inherited his soft blond hair and knowing smile, may have as well.]

Will you stay awhile, Thorin? I've never been alone..

I will stay for as long as you will permit me to. [He leans in to kiss his brow softly.] Sleep. I will wake you when there is news of Fili.

[Sleep comes shockingly quickly though Kili does little to fight it off even so. His dreams are filled with steel and with his brother's smile and he comes to with a start well after dark. If Thorin is not there to immediately stop him, he will stumble like an injured lamb from the nest he's made of his bedding. Surely his brother has been found by now!]

[Luckily, Thorin is in the same spot beside Kili as he was before. Lost in his thoughts, his face drawn with worry and exhaustion, it takes him a moment before realizing his nephew is awake. Just as gently as before, he pushes him back down onto the cot.]

Easy, Kili. No injuring yourself further.

I am far stronger now.

[Does anyone actually believe that? Kili is earnest but a terrible liar. He's so dehydrated he isn't even sweating!]

I feel good, Thorin. Where is my bow?

You are as weak as a kitten. Do not deny it; I know when you're lying.

[He sets a tray of bread, dried meat, and water on Kili's lap.] Eat.

A kitten! Uncle, I am not a kitten!

[Though his attempt to throw off his covers or at least remove the tray barely causes it to move. Kili glares at if as it it's sorcery, meant to keep him bound this way.]

And certainly not hungry.

Eat and I'll give you news of your brother.

[If that doesn't work, Thorin will just have to force feed him.]

[Well of course that works! Kili can barely lift one arm but he shovels food into his mouth and forces himself to swallow likely much too quickly for his ailing body to handle. One doesn't play around when it comes to finding Fili. Kili is incomplete without his brother.]

Slowly. I won't have you choking to death. [A brief smile crosses his face.]

He is been found, and he is alive, though gravely wounded. I am told if he survives the night, he will be fine.

[The brilliant -- literally, brilliant, it outshone most stars -- smile that had formed on his face cracks. If he survives. His appetite leaves.]

May I... May I see...him?

[Thorin hesitates. Kili shouldn't be out of bed with his injuries, but if Fili doesn't survive the night, this could be the last chance he has to see him.]

...I should not allow you to, but yes. For a short while, and you must let me assist you.

[If Fili doesn't survive... There will be a new and terrible burden on thorin. Kili is too young to have known a life outside of his immediate family group. He will become far more reckless. And it will likely become a case of suicide by purposefully allowing himself to be slain in battle. Thorin has likely seen such a thing before.]

Help me up.

[He reaches out for his uncle, already shaking.]

[With all the tenderness of a parent, Thorin helps his young nephew up and onto his feet, bearing most of Kili's weight and watching him closely.]

Can you manage? I could carry you.

You can't carry me. You're still injured.

[The smile is back again, just barely. He can't let Fili see him so weak that his uncle must carry him.]

If we are slow...I can walk.

So they tell me. I don't feel injured. [He smiles back at him, carefully supporting him.]

We will go at your pace. Fili is in the next room over.

[It takes a good five minutes to make it out of the room and into the next. Kili leans heavily on the the other dwarf and still has to brace himself against the wall.

When he sees his brother laying there, Kili's lower lip just trembles and his knees go weak.]

Fi...

[There are a few other dwarves there tending to the injured Fili, but Thorin waves them away, just barely managing to shift his grip on Kili before his nephew's knees give.]

Come. Sit. [He guides him into a chair just beside Fili's bed, keeping a hand on his shoulder. The blond dwarf is badly injured and only semi conscious, his breathing labored. A fever has taken hold of him, and his skin burns with it.]

[A chair? Really? A chair will do nothing. Kili is already attempting to climb into bed with Fili as he'd done as a child, afraid of the night. And this night is quite a lot scarier than any he'd faced as a boy.]

Fili...

[He lightly presses down on his braid.]

You've made a terrible mess of your hair. I only just braided this two days ago.

[Thorin smiles faintly, letting Kili do as he pleases. It's good they've caught Fili when he's somewhat awake, and he watches his nephews quietly from the corner. Fili's words are slurred and soft, but at least he's speaking, even if it is in disjointed sentences. And he's smiling.

Thorin sinks into the chair himself, feeling something constrict tightly around his chest and a lump rise in his throat.]

((ooc: I would attempt to manage Fili, but I'm terrified I'll butcher his voice))

((OOC: I never thought he had much of a voice...in the film or the book. It's no problem. I'd just Durincest it up anyhow.))

And then Thorin--

[Kili talks his brother's ear off, hardly letting Fili get a word in edgewise before the blond's deep blue eyes roll back into his skull. Kili is left screaming and Oin and Gloin press in to return to their healing, telling the boys' uncle to take him back to bed himself.

If Kili hadn't been shaking earlier, he certainly is now.]

FILI!

((ooc: fair enough, lol. Durincest ftw!))

[Thorin watches them with a small smile, but it disappears quickly when Fili sinks into a dead faint. His heart goes out for Kili.]

Kili, give him room. With me, come on. [He's on his feet in an instant, gently taking Kili's arm.]

[There's a murmur to Durin's beard for Fili's safety in this but eventually, Kili's strength gives out and Thorin is able to get him back into bed. He's still shaking like a leaf, panting, afraid.]

[Thorin hates seeing Kili like this just as much as he hates seeing Fili so injured. Perhaps bringing Kili to see his brother was a bad idea. He pulls the covers up nearly to his nephew's chin and brushes a soft kiss across his forehead before taking one of Kili's hands in his own.]

Deep breaths. Fili is strong. He'll be fine.

[The single hand that is not wrapped up clutches not to Thorin's own hand but to his shirt. Kili's teeth are clenched. War, he's just realizing, is a terrible thing. Everything, everything he's idolized about it, the strength of it, has been all wrong.]

What will I do? What am I going to do?!

[If Thorin could protect Kili from the horrors of the real world, he would. Fili being so injured is just a taste of the reality of life. The king sighs deeply.]

You pray that your brother will heal. And you wait.

[Pray. Kili won't let Thorin go. He's got a death grip on him, even as he fall silent. There's no sound coming from the next room at all. He tries not to be worried.]

I know you see me as a child.

[He swallows.]

And so this is a childish response... Will you...

[He tugs Thorin forward. He tries so hard to be an adult that sometimes it's hard to remember that he's just in his seventies. That's barely anything.]

[To say Thorin's concerned about Kili's behavior is an understatement. He doesn't try to pry his fingers from his front, however. Whatever will soothe him is fine by Thorin.]

You must know by now I would do almost anything for you. Just ask.

Lay with me?

[His voice is thick with pain.]

[It's a bit unexpected, and Thorin's caught by surprise. After a moment, however, his expression softens, and he gives him a small nod.]

Move over.

I've not fallen asleep alone in months.

[Dis forced them into separate beds a few years ago but since they've been on the road, Fili's woken with a wild mane in his mouth every single night and has complained up it every single morning. Kili misses it.

He moves away from the edge of the bed and pulls the blanket down for Thorin.]

[Thorin slips off his light armor and sets it on the chair before settling into bed beside Kili.]

And I've not fallen asleep with someone this close at my side since you were a small boy. [But he doesn't mind. His nephews have a special place in his heart.]

Mister Baggins use to make his camp near you...

[Perhaps he should not speak about the hobbit. Not now. Kili's lips press together as he burrows against Thorin's side. He's just trying to hold it all together.]

I remember when you would fall asleep in the front room in front of the fire. Fili and I practiced braiding on you.

[Thorin tenses slightly at the mention of Bilbo and doesn't answer. When Kili moves more into him, however, Thorin is quick to allow his nephew into his arms.

It brings back memories, and he smiles a little.]

I remember. Dis insisted I keep the braids in, in the mornings. I would have left them even if she had not said anything.

They were so terrible!

[He sounds more like himself, more like the little boy that use to son pitifully when Thorin had to leave the mountain to make money for their family or work in one of the towns for awhile to secure trade to the Blue Mountains.]

I know we hate the elves but I would have liked Lord Elrond to show me the four strand braids he did.

[Thorin really does laugh softly at that.] Perhaps. I liked them all the same.

[Despite everything, Thorin's tried to keep a close relationship with his nephews. It's times like this when he is immensely thankful he's done so. If he hadn't been here to calm Kili...he doesn't like to think of what the young dwarf might have done.]

You may be able to figure it out yourself, if you practice.

When Fili wakes up.

[He's trying so very hard to stay positive.]

And when my fingers work.

[Well that makes him smile and he hides it against Thorin's ribs. If Fili doesn't pull through, this might be the last smile he ever has.]

[Thorin chuckles and absently brushes a hand through Kili's hair.] Working fingers is certainly a plus.

I don't remember... I think they got stuck in my bow string--

[He swallows immediately.]

Could you keep that to yourself?

[Thorin has the decency not to laugh at that. Battles are confusing at the best of times. Even Thorin's hurt himself a few times over silly accidents.]

I won't say a word.

Edited (...i can english) 2013-02-11 04:03 (UTC)

[There's silence for long enough of a time for Thorin to begin to think that Kili's fallen asleep when the younger dwarf twists uncomfortably next to him. He misses the way his brother smells. He misses the way he stroked his hair.]

Thorin?

When did your beard come in?

[Thorin can't help but smile faintly.] Yours is coming in just fine, Kili.

Fili's was braidable by the time he was seventy-five.

[Yes. It's always about Fili. Kili is a little bit obsessed.]'

I'm seventy-seven now!

Fili takes after your father. You take more after Dis. [Thorin chuckles.] She was furious when my beard came in before hers.

[Kili doesn't mind taking more after his mother. She has a beautiful beard and from what he's heard, was courted by many powerful dwarves that wanted her beauty and her name. She ended up marrying for love. His father had been handsome, with thick blond hair and deep blue eyes and a thick crop of facial hair.]

Hers is thick now... So does that mean that mine will be thick one day?

[Thorin shrugs. His own beard is not quite as magnificent as his sister's.]

I suppose you shall have to see.

[Kili just assumes his uncle keeps his beard short for battle. Even if none of the others do. There is truly no one that Kili looks up to as he does to Thorin. No one.]

If he--

I don't hear anything at all from his room.

[Well, talk of beards had at least been a momentary distraction.]

[In truth, Thorin keeps his beard short as a reminder of everything he's lost. Perhaps someday soon he'll grow it out again.]

Would you like me to check on him?

[What a dilemma! Kili worries his lower lip.]

Someone will come and get us if there's a change, right?

[He doesn't want to know if Fili's gone.]

Do you...was it because I... I don't want anyone else to bother him.

[Oh Kili. Thorin's arms tighten protectively around him.] You gave your brother strength, Kili. Did you not see how he smiled at you?

[He's quiet for a moment.] I would not be surprised if he is fighting for your sake.

He needs to fight for his own sake!

[Kili should have known better than to just climb into bed with someone injured and feverish. His own body heat could have sent Fili through the roof. He curses at himself in his head.]

There is nothing we can do but wait, Kili!

[Thorin's just as afraid as his nephew for Fili, but he knows better than to dwell on that. He bears the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders and has since he was young. His own concerns go last.]

[Had he been older or less sheltered or less optomistic or more realistic, Kili might have understood all of this. He just doesn't. He can't. They've gone so far, faced more perilous dangers and everyone has survived! They seem blessed. It doesn't make sense for this to be happening. Not to him.

Cowed at least by the cry, Kili falls silent. It takes less than thirty minutes for the deep, tearless sobbing to start. How do dwarves endure this?]

[Thorin sighs and holds Kili a little closer, stroking his hair and murmuring to him just as he used to when his nephew was a child. He wishes he could cheer him up, or at least get him to calm down again, but Thorin doesn't have the heart to speak words that may prove false later.

After a moment or two, he begins to sing quietly to him, an old lullaby that he sang them to sleep with as children.]

[That is, very likely, exactly what he needs. Breathing evening, Kili even hums along. His voice isn't as deep as Thorin's but he's stopped minding for the moment. Later, later when the dust settles and he is either alone or part of a pair again, he'll let himself grow up. Or focus on it. Being a child for a few hours more seems to be what they both need. Thorin can easily allow himself to comfort a boy and Kili doesn't need to do anything but lay where he is and stroke the bit of hair visible on Thorin's chest from under his tunic shirt.]

[He can feel Kili starting to relax against him, and relaxes in turn as well. When the song ends, he just begins it again, same as he used to, those many years ago. One hand is still gently stroking through his nephew's hair, and he keeps Kili close to him. If he can at least help him through tonight, then perhaps things will be better in the morning.]

[Undisturbed once he fell asleep, Kili actually felt so much better upon waking. He imagined the arms around him belonging to his brother -- Fili often hugged him through the night. He stretched like the kitten Thorin had called him the night before and presses his face against his 'brother's' neck with a happy little purr as he resecures his arms around the other. Maybe this is too close for brothers to lay, but Kili hardly cares what others assume is right or wrong. It's always felt right to him.]

[Thorin hardly slept. His thoughts were on his nephews, one of which may very well be dying, while the other lay fast asleep in his arms. It wasn't until early the next morning that he fell into a light doze.

When Kili woke, so did he, but he stayed quiet for now.]

[Which was just as well considering how little fingers, thin for a dwarf but expected for a marksman, wriggled their way under his shirt. He doesn't really recall Fili haven't such well defined muscles but Kili's not one to overthink things.]

[Thorin couldn't help but squirm a bit at that, not entirely used to being touched. Kili's fingers will find a thick roll of gauze covering a good portion of Thorin's lower chest.]

[Had Kili a tail, it would be thracking itself happily on the mattress. Sometimes Fili pushed his hands away, but not today! He was allowed to run the fingers of the unbandaged hand up his back, along his spine... Kili truly can not get closer than he is now, making a small, kittenish yawn that catches in a beard. He and Fili generally get by without speaking much so he doesn't even bother to open his mouth as he clings and crawls tightly to his 'brother,' knee pressing between thighs, until he finally falls still again. Almost still at least. He picks at the edges of a bandage instead.]

[Thorin stays quiet, letting Kili curl closer and do as he will. He's obviously being mistaken for Fili, but he just can't bring himself to pull back and break the illusion that is unmistakably making Kili happy.]

[Perhaps best not to think of why Kili is so comfortable with his older brother then, or why he happily twists himself and entwines himself in the arms of the other. It has always been Kili that has insisted on this little practice and even tucked under a bedroll, he's indulged with his brother while the blond half dozed, stirring only from time to time as Kili's fingers ticked him.

Though Kili feels the aches and pains of battle, he files them away under 'to be felt later' and makes little 'scritching' marks under Thorin's shirt until the youngest Durin is nearly wearing his shirt along with him.]

[Thorin watches Kili for a moment or two, not entirely comfortable with this practice, but unwilling to interrupt it. He stays mostly still for now, watching him quietly.]

[About to murmur something about breakfast before Bombur can have their seconds, the doors creak open. As the clinging is down under covers, nothing looks too in appropriate. Kili's mind, however, catches up with his body and he immediately lifts his head. The dwaves that have come to see them look...

Sad. And the hair against his pillow is not blond at all. He still manages, despite his wounds, to catapult himself over Thorin before he can be stopped.

The sudden shouts of agony and anger and dispair clue Thorin in on the rest. Fili is dead. Kili has become hei apparant after Thorin. And someone needs to stop the young dwarf before he kills himself hunting wargs in his state.]

Kili!

[The looks on everyone's faces and Kili's reaction tells him everything he needs to know. Thorin rushes after his nephew, following him into the room that had belonged to Fili. He's pale and cold with death, and Thorin has to sit quickly before his heart gives out completely.]

[Tears had been shed yesterday. Now, Kili just stands over his fallen brother as if he's nothing but a doll, a stone effigy. He thumbs across a pale lower lip and blinks as if he doesn't recognize just who it is there.

He'd been too young when his father died to really understand. He'd just asked if Thorin was going to be Papa now and flinched when Fili told him off for it.

Who will be brother now, he wonders, and pulls one of the twin blades from his brother's bedside. There's nothing in his eyes as he strides as best he can out of the room. No one else has the heart to stop him. Dwarves are very loyal to their kin.]

[Thorin has lost one son today; he's not about to lose another. He grabs Kili's arm to stop him, keeping him in place. Even injured, Thorin is strong.]

If you want to be alone, I understand. But I will not allow you to leave.

The last thing I said...

[His voice is different now. Thicker. Lower. It's what happens when one first learns of suffering.]

...was that his braids were a mess. Let me go, uncle.

Kili... [Thorin swallows. To say he is unaffected by Fili's death is an enormous lie.]

I know what you are going through, far better than you know. I will let you go if you give me your word you will not do anything he wouldn't want you to do. [He watches his nephew closely.]

...Promise him you will honor his memory.

I intend to honour him, Thorin.

[That sounds so...vicious. He shifts Fili's sword in the palm of his only working hand.]

I'll spill the blood of those that caused this so that he'll have comfort in the Halls of Waiting.

No. [Thorin stands, taking Kili gently by the shoulders.] Not yet. Wait until your wounds are healed.

They'll get further away than they are.

[He lifts dark eyes towards Thorin's, unwilling, unable to look at Fili laying there.]

I can't afford to lose any more of their trail. I'm a good tracker. My eyesight is uninjured.

[Kili has a point, but...

Thorin remembers being in his shoes. He remembers all too well the agony of losing your closest friend and kin. Kili shared a bond with Fili, the bond of brotherhood and friendship, and now it's broken. Kili is struggling to fill that emptiness in the only way he knows how.]

You will not rest until you have done this, I take it.

Were I the one--

[He clenches his jaw and presses his fingers so hard into the pommel of the blade that teh designs become etched onto his palm.]

Were it me, he would not rest without retribution.

I intend to have it.

[Thus is the folly, he decides, of loving someone. To lose them is to be in endless pain.]

[He's right, of course, and as much as it pains him, Thorin can't deny Kili this.]

I will accompany you. As will several others. But Kili, give me your word you do not intend to throw your life away. We -- I -- need you.

[And here comes the stupidity of youth. He fixes hard, angry eyes on Thorin.]

You walked down a burning tree stump to seek your revenge, though outnumbered and with many of us hanging onto the branches. You were willing to throw your life away.

Fili is waiting for me. With our father. And our grandfather. And great grandfather.

If you wish to come, come. But do not stand in my way.

[Balin and Dwalin give each other looks.]

[Of course he has to bring that up. What a stupid, stupid idea it had been...]

I will not allow you to die today, do you understand? I know your pain, I do. But Fili would be furious to see you allow yourself to be killed after he gave his life for you. Do you think he would have protected you if he had wanted you dead?

He doesn't get to want anything any more!

[One doesn't talk back to one's mother's brother. Nor to one's king. And yet Kili is doing just that, brave, stupid little pup. In fact, he gets right up into Thorin's face.]

He died and he left me so he isn't allowed a say with a tongue that will never move again anyhow!

[Thorin takes it surprisingly well. He wants to yell and kill just as much as Kili, but he holds it in. When he finally does speak, his voice is deadly calm.]

I will give you a few hours to cool your head and rest. Once you are thinking more clearly, we will leave. And you will not deliberately get yourself killed. I will be at your side every second there is danger, and I will take the blow in your place if I must. I do not think you want to lose two of your kin in one day.

[For once crazy moment, Kili almost looks ready to challenge Thorin -- or hit him -- but he deflates slightly and turns back to the blond.]

A few hours.

I should...prepare him...

[One last morning braiding his brother's hair. Washing his body. Laying it out for prayers. Kili wants to do it alone. His cousins aren't so sure how good of an idea that is.]

[Thorin nods, glancing at the body on the cot beside them. The grief is plain in his face.] If you should need assistance, all you have to do is ask.

[Fili. Gone. It seems so unreal, how still and cold he lays there. Thorin gently pulls Kili into an embrace, both giving and seeking comfort.]

[Kili returns the crushing embrace for several very, very long moments before he asks Oin for a basin and starts to undo his brother's clothing.

For awhile, all that comes from Fili's sick room is the sounds of mourning songs sending the dead on to the Halls of Waiting. Sometimes they're more choked with emotion than others but for one so young, e does a good job.]

[Thorin just waits quietly outside of the room. It's his duty to be strong, to be the leader, but the crushing weight of Fili's death is too much to bear. For a long while, he sits in a corner, his head in his hands. If there are tears, it's impossible to tell.]

[Kili does everything he can manage alone but some things are just too tough for him. And it's not fair to shut Thorin out when he's been so close to them both. A sorrowful, cowed Kili sticks his head out of the room an hour later.]

I could... I could use some help singing the final songs. And I can't get his braids right without the full use of both hands...

I want him to look well for when he meets our kin at the Halls of Waiting.

[Thorin's head snaps up, his eyes a bit red. He nods and pushes himself to his feet, wordlessly joining Kili at Fili's bedside.

He can't quite bring himself to speak as he tenderly rebraids his nephew's hair, though after a moment or two he joins Kili in the last few songs.]

[Together, redressing Fili, Kili looks up at his uncle with sorrowful eyes.]

The way I acted-- I'm very sorry, Thorin. I won't do anything stupid. When you are King Under The Mountain and the war is over, after you have brought our people back, and have married and have an heir.. [He stops himself.]

Fili said that since I was born, he never was able to do anything first any more. I need to stay safe so he can explore the Halls without me for a little while, don't you think?

[Injured fingers stroke Fili's cheek.]

I'll be borrowing one of your swords, brother. It's finer than mine. I'll return it soon.

[And not caring that Thorin is there, he bends to kiss his brother's cold lips.]

Say hello to our father, Fili. I will be with you when my hair is pale like yours.

[It's all a little too much for Thorin. He nods tightly, his eyes fixed on the ground. After a moment he turns away, rubbing his face.

Fili was more than just a nephew. He was a son, perhaps not by blood, but in spirit. Thorin's lost so much already; losing Fili is too much.]

...I should never have brought you with me.

[Kili's adamant when he shakes his head]

You know we would have followed just the same. And would have never been happy. You needed us, uncle. And he died like a warrior, not of old age in a bed complaining like cousin Dain.

[Kili turns, away from the corpse.]

We'll see him soon enough. If you visit the Halls before I do, just promise me that you'll tell him I love him.

And that you'll axaggerate my beard. Say it's the finest a dwarf has ever grown!

[It's rare for Thorin to be overcome with emotion, but it's evident by the way his face is in his hands and his shoulders are shaking that he is now. Kili's had his time to get it out; Thorin's been holding it all in. He's embarrassed of the show of weakness, but he can't stop.]

Oh.

[Kili is quick to curl himself around Thorin after he drops himself to his knees.]

Or just tell him it's better than stubble! You don't have to lie! Unless it really is a good beard!

[He's so simple. It's horrible.]

[Thorin just...clutches at Kili. What he's saying is just so nonsensical, so silly and unimportant, and a choked laugh escapes him. His only comfort is that it's only Kili here to witness his weakness, and after a moment or two of struggling, he regains control of himself.]

I...apologize, I... [He pulls Kili into a tight embrace.] I never did get a chance to tell him how proud I am.

[As Fili use to do to get him to stop crying, Kili lightly touches his nose to Thorin's. ]

He knew. Told me so. You don't have to worry, Thorin.

[There's something threatening to burst in Thorin's chest, and his wound is aching, but he's never loved Kili more than he does in this moment. A tired smile steals across his face and he kisses his nephew's forehead gently.]

...You know I am not skilled in expressing my feelings, but I want you to know that I love you dearly. I will give anything for your happiness, and I will do everything I can to help you through this.

[Kili's arms immediately wrap around Thorin's neck as they use to when the other dwarf would be forced to tote him around. Those words are the only ones that Kili has ever wanted to hear before yesterday -- and no he longs to hear Fili's voice again. ]

I love you too. We both do.

['We'. Thorin holds Kili close and wonders how long it will be before he drops that habit.]

You should rest. You are still very pale. How is the pain?

[Kili has been a pair for seventy-seven years. He has almost never used a singular when it comes to describing himself because he has never been a 'self.' The only way he can carry on is to believe that Fili is still with him. Cheering him on. Hugging him even as he hugs Thorin. ]

The pain is bearable. Give me some strong beer. We should call the rest of the House of Durin to bury Fili's body.

[He doesn't need it anymore. He has his brother with him.]

We will. Soon. [He nods tightly and releases him finally. Kili seems to have calmed, but Thorin fears for what the next stage in his grief might be.]

Come. To bed with you.

Bed?

[Kili was silent for a moment. The marauders were long gone. He knew. Going out to find his brother's killers would be better just to wait for them to return. Because of course the would return. Kili nods. The voice of his brother in his head makes perfect sense.]

All right. Do you want to be alone?

[Kili is genuinely worrying Thorin, but he supposes that's normal.]

..I want a moment with him, but I will be back. If you would allow the company.

I still want the beer.

[Kili is still very tired. He looks exhausted as he shuffles out of his brother's room and slips back into his own room. He undresses his hurting arm and frowns at it in the mirror.]

I'm not a baby. [Talking to himself?] I'm not going to cry.

C'mon. Get into bed before Thorin yells.

[Thorin sits back down at Fili's bedside, taking his nephew's cold hand in his own for a moment. And for a few minutes, he lets himself fall apart. Tears drip down his cheeks and splash onto Fili's bed.

Despite everything he'd said to Kili, Thorin couldn't help but feel responsible for this. He had promised his sister he would keep them safe, and look what had happened. He would never be able to face her. It was difficult enough to face Kili.

It's some time before he finally leaves Fili's bedside to return to Kili.]

[Though in bed, Kili is sitting up trying to bandage himself again. There are dark circles under his eyes but he seems more or less all right as he catches a bandage between his teeth and sucks in a painful breath as he tightens the linen around his arm. He looks up at Thorin and frowns lightly. He's been crying again.]

Thorin?

[His eyes are red and tired, yes, but he's holding himself like a king again. Strong and proud, but he knows Kili can see through it.

Thorin is afraid and hurting.]

Let me help. [He sits on the edge of Kili's bed, taking the linen from him and wrapping it securely around his injured arm.]

We had it...

[He's only pouting a little. He really had needed the help of course. He watches Thorin tend to him, almost curious.]

You should be resting too.

[Thorin lets out a sound that might be a laugh.] Perhaps. I'm busy.

[He finishes the bandage, taping it securely in place.] There.

Busy and forgot the beer. Ah well. We'll live. Do you still want the company?

You know uncle, if you plan on staying here you really ought to just stay. Back in bed then. They'll think us lazy! Then again... My arm is probably broken...

[He doesn't like the way Kili is acting at all. He's talked in the plural before, but not like this, not this extensively.

There will be no leaving Kili's side, not for a long while.]

A drink, of course. Stay here and I'll fetch you something.

[And have Oin drug it. Kili needs sleep.]

[And Kili doesn't even notice the way that he's acting. It seems normal. Or at least typical. He feels better pretending. No matter what it's doing to him deep down. He takes the brew and thanks Oin before he submits to the other gently tending a few cuts with poultices. He keeps chirping that he's fine until he nearly drops the beer, sleep hitting him hard. He doesn't find that fair. ]

I don't feel...

Thorin, there's something wrong with us...

[Thorin reaches out to stroke Kili's cheek softly, pain written in his eyes.]

...I'm sorry.

Did you--

[He frowns and leans haphazardly into his uncle. ]

You drugged... Huh.

[And out he goes.]

I'm sorry. [He repeats it even if Kili can't hear him, because he means it. He presses a kiss to Kili's head and strokes his hair before carefully pushing him back onto the cot.

He feels wretched.]

[Sebastian Moran, promoted after the injury that pulled him out of the war to colonel, likes to keep an eye on any news of returning soldiers. Especially those wounded in battle. Most of them don't merit any action, but... his unit of the RIFLES served briefly with the 5th Fusiliers. He doesn't remember every man, and he doesn't expect to be remembered by every man, but he still has a tradition. If someone he served with comes home injured, he visits.

In the RIFLES dress uniform, he knocks at the door of the hospital room. Passing the outgoing nurse, he goes in. He gives a polite nod to the patient. He remembers seeing the man, having a chat or two, maybe a couple drinks, but they weren't close. Still, a brother in arms is a brother in arms, especially when they have worked together.]

Captain Watson. Lieutenant-Colonel Moran, of the 1st RIFLES.

[The rank isn't quite true now, but that was what it was when they worked together, so that's what he'll use for his introduction.]

[ John Watson is looking better today. He's got more colour in his cheeks, and he's on enough pain medication that his shoulder isn't hurting him much. The wound on his shoulder is bandaged, and he knows that eventually, when he looks at it, he'll see the damaged skin, an ugly reminder of the wound that had put him in the hospital... and taken him out of the war, where he had been helping people. He already knows he's not going to get to go back. After his time in the hospital comes to a close, he'll go back to London to live on the measly stipend they'll be giving him. What he'll do with his life then, he doesn't know yet. It's a depressing thought he can't help but linger on.

He's actually quite bored and a bit depressed when the knock at the door comes, and an unexpected visitor walks in. It takes a moment, but the name and the face clicks in his hazy head. At least his memory is still intact.]

Right, yeah, I think I remember. [He nods, part of him annoyed by the visit from another soldier, reminding him what he doesn't have anymore, and part of him relieved for the distraction.] Hello.

[Sebastian smiles a little. He doesn't have much cause any longer to wear his uniform. Visiting a brother in arms is a good excuse to dust it off, remind him that, even off the battlefield, he was still a soldier. Even if he didn't feel like it sometimes.]

Saw your name [and company, since that's how he really remembers who he served with] in the lists coming home. Figured I'd come by.

[The wound would keep Watson out of the fighting for a little while. Permanent? He wasn't sure. If it was permanent? The bastard had his sympathy. There was nothing worse than that, being exiled from the ranks where you belonged. From the men you knew.

...Enough to drive a man with the beginnings of a problem to the bottle hard.

But maybe Watson would make better use of his time. If he couldn't go back. Not every medically discharged soldier ended up a basket case. Most of them were made of stronger stuff than him.]

[John thinks he'll be useless, now that he's no longer out on the field. Depression isn't all that surprising, considering his current state, and Moran reminds him of what he lost. But he tries to be polite, because it's not this man's fault, and he can't say he doesn't appreciate the company.]

Thank you. Yes, well... I was shot, so. [John smirks a little, dryly, and shrugs his good shoulder. He hoped to go back to war as soon as he was healed, of course... but already he was plagued with nightmares. The doctors didn't seem keen on letting him go back anytime soon.] That's how it goes, I'm afraid.

Three to the chest.

[I've been there. You're not alone.

Not that those words would make any difference right now. That's why Sebastian doesn't offer them. He knows. It's lonely as hell, no matter how many people are around you. Because no one else actually understands. Even the ones who've been through it. It's always just a little different. At the very least.]

Gets better when you find something to do. Not easy, though.

[It'd taken him almost two years. A long, rough two years. But that doesn't have to be said. No reason to make things worse than they are.

What also doesn't need to be said are the words people think are comforting. Better than the alternative. There are plenty of times he's thought the men who died in action were better off than the ones who lived.]

[Either option is okay for her.]

[Kain'll be the returning soldier! Especially interested in 5 or 7. NO to 6. Open to combinations of any other options.]

[He's got soldiering in his history, but could go either way. No Sixes please.]

[Either/or, historical AUs are always fun, no 6s please.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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Away at War / Left Behind

Dean Winchester | Supernatural | Open (Gen or Destiel)

Jim Hawkins | Treasure Planet

Ordinary!Dean Winchester | Supernatural | Open

John Watson | BBC Sherlock | Returnee

AU - John went to fight Moriarty's web, Sherlock thought he was dead?

Sure!

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Cloud Strife ☄ FFVII: Crisis Core

Merlin | BBC's Merlin | Open

Spike Spiegel | Cowboy Bebop | Open

Q | Skyfall | m/m preference

Rolled a 1, hope that's okay.

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Off to bed.

night!

I lied. Last one, and THEN bed. Good night. :0)

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Edmund Pevensie | Chronicles of Narnia | OTA

Thor | MCU

Rolled a 1, hope that's okay.

David | Animorphs

Jack O'Neill | Stargate SG-1 | Returnee

8 because I can

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love me some SG-1, although it's been a while! 8, because I'm not looking to pair them.