Chapter Text
Finding Tank Girl and Ted trying to get some shelter from these bastards (and as always, arguing), Steve joins them despite the pain of having to dodge the thugs’ bullets for each step he makes. He was agile, but he couldn’t keep up his speed and had not the time to kill em off just yet. “Hey guys, I’m here!” Steve whisper shouted, signaling both a request to join their little pity hideout. “Aw Steve what a fucking show-off you were over there.” Ted complimented him while adjusting his sniper. “You’re just my type, Stevie.” Tank Girl nudged playfully. Even in this situation, we can still have fun.
“Look at missy here glorifying this wrench out of every men in this militia. No offense to you, Steve.” “I was being platonic, dummy.” This would have been funny if nothing else was happening. But something’s happening right now, and funtime isn’t the right time at the moment.
“Shut your traps, you two. We’re in war and in war, people di-“ Steve was cut-off as Tank Girl alerted an incoming attack, “Get your heads down both of you.” She screamed as a drunk sniper from the tankmen began aimlessly releasing the bullets all over the place, accidentally killing off some of their allies, but somehow killed off a few groups of thugmen.
A miracle it was that he concealed himself safely with his two comrades before having to accidentally spill his organs and now they have to innovate on how the hell they were gonna hop on their tank and hit the road in a place like this.
“Looks like I underestimated them.” Steve paused while lowering his head a bit deeper, “They used to have plastic sports gear, but now they phased out and have metal gear.” “Well good for them I guess...” Ted replied while slowly lifting his head to prepare for a proper aim. “When can these fuckers go fuck themselves off already?!” Ted rambles as he finds himself with a handful of ammo left, “I’d do the honor of shoving this gun on their asses till their body splits.”
“Better keep your eyes on the battlefield, Sniper, cuz where getting waves of these people and I don’t know when it ends.” Tank Girl reprimanded as she slowly inspected her surroundings. “Captain told me they came from the west, which is why some of them penetrated left of HQ. So that our allies lose contact from those guarding the west borders making it an advantage for the thugs.” Steve said with great elucidation making the two aware of the condition.
“Great. Now we have to find a way to make it to west or we’re getting tons of bodies to burn tonight.” Tank Girl sighed until a lightbulb lit up in her head, signaling an idea. “I have a plan.”
“Make it quick because this baby ain’t gonna fucking last.” Ted retorted as his gun began running out of ammo.
“There’s still a vacant tank near HQ that just got repaired and refilled recently. If we reach it without blowing our heads off, then we can go west. Simply, there still isn’t that much thugs crowding on our right, and they’re pretty busy dealing with the rest on left, so this is our chance to get there safely. We just need to bring one of the recruiting medics with us in case we’d rot on our way.”
“And what if someone did try to shoot us while running?” Steve asked and Tank Girl couldn’t decipher if it was a genuine question, but she answered anyway.
“Be careful I guess...”
“Oi let’s fucking go. I gotta replenish.” Ted yelled as he began to run. “C’mon, Steve, there’s nothing more to lose!”
In a series of big steps and somewhat occasional leaps, Steve and his allies did what they could to make sure they’re not suspected here. Constantly having to hide behind inanimate objects to conceal their figures if ever their wits tell them so. Reaching the military base, they had to endure a short, but impatient wait as Ted had to gather up some ammunition. “We’re almost outta stock.” He muttered as he grabbed what quantity remained left in the box.
Now heading out to continue their disastrous little trip to HQ, still not spotted, Steve felt like his bladder’s gonna burst any minute. “I have to piss.” He said as his thighs squeezed together, trying to hold his pee. “Why at a time like this?” Tank Girl sighed, “hurry up.” Sadly couldn’t continue embracing the moment of draining it all while singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’, he had to be quick or someone might shoot his member off. Good thing he ain’t gonna have it today.
Finally arriving near HQ and finding the tank, they swiftly hopped inside the vehicle as Steve started the engines. “Dammit! They found us!” He shrieked as the tank was now on power and ready he was on its control. “Drive us outta this hellhole now!” Ted shouted as they now began their journey to the west. “I honestly don’t know where the hell they’re spawning, but we can kill some along the way.” Steve said while driving the tank. “Thank God, I was able to call one of the medics, they’re behind us so we should be fine.” Tank Girl added as she readied herself for what might seem a “Danger Days” moment.
—————————————————-
So far, John is still alive, but he feels like he won’t last. Getting his skin scrapped by fallen debris and failed pursuing bullets was most likely his last straw before he drains in his pool of blood. But hell no, he’s not sleeping until the deed is done. He somewhat found a way to blend with his enemies by stealing one of the men’s metal sports gear and placing it on his head, making sure it had a lotta spikes to convince the leader. Many wore vests, but he had to find a way to hide the arrows on his shoulders. “Oh, duh!” He blurted out loud, he remembered the spiked epaulettes they wore that could possibly cover his arrows. “Sweet.”
Now undistinguishable, he then proceeded to run as if he was a maze runner and accidentally shot one of his men. “Shit, I promise to help bury your body, Raydon.” At least it helped covered him up as one of the thugs, or else he might fail his act through resistance and cowardice.
Finally, he found the leader and dashed to his direction, “What’s the deal, mate?” The leader asked a bit rough as he was a bit irritated by the disturbance, “I shot the captain in secret.” John responded with his best phony accent making sure he wasn’t suspicious.
“But if the Captain was dead, many would have been screaming by now.” “That’s why I said I killed him in secret, sir. They don’t know.” John paused as he decided his next part of the plan. “I can show you his corpse, he’s in the abandoned military barracks.” He could tell that their leader had the IQ of a fish, somehow easily convinced of his “soldier’s” achievement. “Lead the way, and make sure it’s bulletproof.” “Right on it, sir!”
After what took longer than expected, John and the leader of the Thugmen have arrived foot in their destination. “I forgot to introduce myself, I’m sure you’re a recruit that joined our faction just yesterday.” The leader said as his attention was now set on John’s. “The name’s Seether, and I was somewhat chosen by my men as the new leader eversince one of the Captain’s allies have killed the former.” Seether said as he walked around the debris, eyeing each corner, “now that the man himself is dead, I’d say three cheers for sweet revenge.”
“Indeed, sir. I can show you the way.” John said as he tried to lure his target to where they are to fight. He may have the confidence to execute his plan alive and successfully, but a faint instinct of him infers his aftermath. ‘We’ll see how things go. If I screw up even a little, looks like I’ll be selling my soul to the grim reaper today.’ John thought to himself, sweating profusely.
It’s the third floor and now John is slowly getting ready for his identity reveal. In the meantime, pissing off Captain Seether might be a good idea to lighten up his mood.
“Heya Cap,” John paused to get Seether’s attention, “what’s the other term for chicken again?”
“No time for english class. C’mon, show me the body.” Seether was getting impatient, but John hasn’t gave a single damn about what he’s doing. “But sir, just one questio-“
“ARE YOU DEAF, ASSHOLE?!”
“Uhm, no sir I just.... need to ask this little question and-“
“IS THIS A SICK JOKE UR PLAYING ON ME, RECRUIT?!”
“Pfft, possibly.” John said as his ideal Americans accent caved back. “What happened to your voice?!” Seether was now losing it, thinking he was hallucinating.
“Well you see, Seether... I disguised as one of your men.” John smirked, imposing a dramatic introduction as he lifted the spiked helmet, throwing it to Seether’s direction, making him clutch his torso. “It’s a good thing my after-school accent classes were worth it. Now rate it from 1 to 10.”
“YOU MOTHER FU-“ Seether was cut off as John flaunted around the place like some kindergartener singing blablabla, just to buy more time to enhance his strategy. See? That must be difficult multitasking.
“Well Seether, I’m sure you know how Tankmen look like, but do you know HOW THE CAPTAIN LOOKS LIKE?”
“Uh, no.” Hearing this brought John dying in his knees, “You seek for the Captain but you never know how he looks like?! HAHAHA I like you mate. Continue your story when we both take shots at Frank’s once this shitstorm is over.” “Well, how the fuck will I know if I never met him? The former leader died before I get to know so?”
“Well,” John paused as his charm drained out in an instant, getting serious, “the supposed dead captain that you’re looking for is ME!” His face changed as his brows furrowed (like hell anyone can see it) and his mouth convexes, preparing his UZI and hoping it isn’t jammed like the last time. He had to buy the new latest edition to upgrade his style, which at least improved his performance.
“Oh, I’d be happy if we’re gonna do it face-to-face and see which bullet lands on a head first.” Seether snickered as he finally moved on from his agony and steadied his position with his gun on hand.
“Sorry to break your heart, Woody, but at least get creative in your battle concept. It might be shameful if one of us dies in an instant when we barely get to know each other’s abilities.” John might sound like he wanted to have some fun, which is true. But seriously wants to see how much this “Captain” can handle a load of bullcrap that he’s gonna spit out.
“Who gives a damn anyway. It’s all about survival and not impressing your enemies. Unless if I get to kill you cutely and win, then you’d have a point.” Seether said as he began to pull the trigger, releasing the bullets without further warning.
“Oh I shit you not.” John said as he successfully dodged the bullets in time and hiding himself behind the wall to do the same. “I think you need to use your bullets wisely, man.” “Oh I will. I tried to scare you by aiming some bullets near the wall at your side, but-“ Seether said as he then shot a bullet below a flat part of the floor near John, which ricocheted to his right leg. “Darn it, I forgot some parts of the floor weren’t that rough.” John said as he clutched his side of the leg with agony. Seether’s only three months old in his position, and yet he’s this smart. Most men in war would remind themselves this one thing: to aim for your enemies precisely, and that’s that. Never had anyone heard of a gun wielder of ace in strategy, other than those in motion pictures. If they did, they’d never know who.
John then tumbled to another wall, trying to aim for Seether and shot both of his shoulders. ‘This is for being a smartass.’ He indirectly shot back while witnessing his enemy’s arms shaking from the impact. In order for an unlikely chance of proper precision and accuracy, discharge to the tip will affect all areas (it depends actually lmao).
‘Gotta have high hopes, Steve. Life is full of people that aren’t worth underestimating.’
—————————————-
“One head, two heads, three heads. I’m at a streak.” Ted said as he counted the men to corpses.
“Ya hangin’ there, Steve?” Tank Girl asked while she threw a grenade to the group of thugs chasing after them, now their flesh flying like an atomic bomb aftermath, “Can’t you see that I’m trembling right now?! There’s too much of them!!” Now his thoughts diverted to John. How is he doing? What is he doing? Where is he? Will he be alright? He can’t assure the last question, cuz who the hell thinks they’ll be ok in war.
As Steve drove the tank, increment by increment his speed increases, to the point he began committing mass genocide across the battlefield, and somewhat been bumping to random obstacles like rocks, abandoned vehicles, and whatnot that literally anyone can expect in this less inhabited world they lived in. His could feel his damn blood pressure getting higher, any minute he’ll pop and no one can do about it.
“Steve, we’re gonna crash!” Steve, who was slowly being consumed by the apprehension of hostilities, that he hasn’t had his eyes and mind on the road (and still trembling). Thus, Tank Girl took his place and avoided the rock in the nick of time, but almost flipped the tank over.
“Calm your fucking tits down! Geez.” Ted glared at Tank Girl while she didn’t turn to face him or even have the time to respond.
“What the hell...” Tank Girl eyed on another tank of the opposite direction full of 5 people, “Kill them Steve!!!”
But like what I said, Steve was being slowly unresistant and unresponsive to the demands of what has to be done, as his mind is fogged. All he can do is ask himself on how the fuck are they gonna survive. There’s too many and every man he shot is a new foe that had the guts to avenge the fallen. He then quickly looked at their medic from behind them, having to self-medicate themselves in a place like this. All thanks to his incompetence...
“Steve?!” Tank Girl was now getting concerned, “I’ll control the tank for you.”
“N-n-no.... It’s my job to ride this tank...”
He would have been more honest if he let his comrade continue his responsibility, because he finds himself trembling even more, blood, sweat and tears mix so unsettling. But as the opposite tank began launching their attacks towards them, it shot up adrenaline on these poor souls but alerted Steve to move the tank sideways, while Ted and Tank Girl do their jobs.
‘John.....’ Steve sighed as temporary relief dominated him. They would have been dead if he spaced out. ‘They just keep coming... We’re all gonna die... If that’s the case, I’d wanna be buried with you...’
As John came through his mind, he was unaware of a ricocheting bullet that pierced through his waist. He let out a pain of agony, which was the same as getting a male’s member cut off, as he lost control of the tank and somewhat they found themselves crashing on rocks while trying to navigate the hell outta this place. Knowing they were fucked, Steve pulled out his last move: throwing a grenade to the thugs’ tanks from front and back afar. At least his friends won’t be affected by the impact.
Two short detonations later, he could smell burning steel from both sides, fires engulfed what living and non-living smithereens remained. One of the remaining thugs who climbed out of the almost burning tank, crawled towards Steve’s tank. He sounded so crestfallen, hopeless and pissed off, but who fucking cares? It’s their enemy so a piece of mercy is not a thing in their morality.
“Assholes...” the thug muttered, “we’re getting extinct. Happy now?”
“Duh, we fucking are.” Ted shot back.
“No sentiments?”
“Inapplicable.”
“Curse you and your shitty militia!!! You’ve learned of destruction, but never spared at least a thought of guilt!! Have you ever thought of someone like me who never wanted to be tangled in this mess because I didn’t wanna get involved?!”
The thug screamed as he began spatting out more non-sense. Of course, it was never music to anyone’s ears.
“You came from a military faction...” Tank Girl sighed as she continued, “You are now in their debt so you gotta put your soul in the battlefield, dummy...”
“Well I-“
“Cry about it, dweeb. We don’t give a fuck about your life so why do we care...” Ted added fuel to the flame as he tried to stand up, legs cramping. “Look, each second, our life span gets chipped off. Add this and we are at death’s bed. Don’t get me fucking started of you rambling about being here. Why not burn those clothes and go back to the orphanage or you’ll get a fucking bullet on your liver.”
“And I am not finished-“
“Of all the juvie halls and the Ritalin rats, ask angels made from neon and fucking garbage scream out, “When will you shut the fuck up?” Steve then muttered as he was getting dizzier every second.
Of course, Ted had it so he decided to shut them up with his sniper. “Be thankful I fucking spared your life for a few minutes. I felt like I wasn’t myself for that moment.”
“You should have shot them up seconds ago, Ted...” Tank Girl facepalmed as she layed flat on the ground, chest heaving.
That’s when Steve fell off the driver seat, clutching his waist. He’s been holding it for a long period that a new pool of blood is slowly forming around him.
“Steve!” They both yelled in sync as they dashed to his side, Tank Girl lifting Steve up to inspect his injuries. “Miss, do what you can.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The medic responded as she then swifty tried her best efforts to aid one of their allies, one of the best, one closest to their leader.
“How the fuck do I even explain Cap’n about this...?” Ted stared as he crouched near Steve’s side. “What do you mean?”
Tank Girl asked confused.
“You don’t know? Steve is literally the apple of his eye eversince he recruited here.” Ted paused as he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up to ease himself up, “If he finds out about this, then expect him to wet the bed later. The other folks spilled me that they most likely have held hands by now.”
“So you’re telling me Steve and Captain are gay for each other huh...” Tank Girl asked as she was actually surprised with the new information she obtained. “Most likely. I don’t fucking know-“
“Shhhh....” Tank Girl put her hand on his mouth, “you gotta make sure not to wake him up. He’s got it all rough and now hanging, so the least we can do is not letting him eavesdrop.”
“Whatever.” Ted sighed as he stared at the medic who was tending to Steve’s wounds, then Steve himself. “You gotta fucking live you wimp. For Captain’s sake.”
“He’s almost done. Do you need of assistance?” The nurse then asked which caught both attention of Ted and Tank Girl.
“Steve is priority here. You can worry about us later once he’s in bed.” Tank Girl responded as she sat on a nearby rock, ripping a part of her shirt off to tie the laceration on her right forearm. It stings but past had it all worse upon her.
“Understood. I am still approachable anytime.” The nurse replied as she continued tending to Steve until the neatly wrapped bandages shielded portion of his figure. She wasn’t much of a talker, nor was close to anyone in the militia, though she had her chats with her former patients who seem to be conversationalists.
“You’re telling me now we have to fucking walk back?” Ted snarled as he spat out his cigarette and then stared at his surroundings. Fire everywhere, despite a huge gap between made easy penetration, it was still a humdrum of having to suck it up because every option was out of the bag, inapplicable or impossible.
“What else do you think? Rot?” Tank Girl retorted as she stood up, “We’re walking until we get back to HQ.”
“Ugh, dumbass, the walkey-talkey exists.” Ted facepalmed himself as he realized he still had it with him. “Well mine broke so hurry up.”
Ted then contacted HQ to request for a truck and a few medics that might accompany them easily. Luckily despite the inferno crisis ongoing from the successful infiltration of the Thugmen, communication was still preserved on few of the regions and came arrived the truck with 3 people: a soldier and two medics.
While preparing to transport back to their military base, you’d thought that they’d have it easy and casually just drive amidst the war thinking that the west was now cleared? Hell no. Turns out, one of the Thugs that came from the west had to retreat to upper ground in supposed hopes of having to survive this shitstorm. At sight of the tank of it’s foe, he quickly grabbed his sniper and aimed for the resting man on the stretcher, which the bullet then-
“We gotta make it quick. He might not last...” Tank Girl spoke as she stared at Steve’s frail body, now signs of him waking up. In agony of course.
“G-guys....” Steve muttered as he winced on the wound that immobilized a part of him, “t-this shit.... hurts....”
“No talking, or the gap will widen.”
“AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”
The affliction that earned a loud bleat from the impotent soldier himself escaped from his lips as a bullet shot near his crotch, alarming the witnesses during such horror. This then brought up Ted to aim at the culprit in an instant, bringing a successful finish.
...
Now they have to worry about Steve even more.
“We need to head back to the military treatment facility! He’s still alive, but blood loss is dominant!” One of the nurses yelled as they all swiftly, but carefully placed the stretcher on the truck and executed a mad drive back to their base as soon as they can. The man’s life was hanging on a delicate string, world revolving abominable, and at the moment had full-hearted attention from the three medics present. With Ted on the front seat and Tank Girl at the back, both were still able to witness such body horror as Tank Girl carefully eyed the time constrained procedure.
“Hang in there, Steve!” Tank Girl said with assurance despite her shaky voice. “Fight your ass to survival. I know you’re a man!” Ted added as he then turned his back to keep a keen eye on their path.
‘I can’t do this, John... I’m sorry... I’m a damn failure....’
———————————
John would be lying if he didn’t say that he was close to his limit.
Remind him how long he last? Oh yeah, it had been 30 minutes.
30 minutes of non-stop locomotive movement.
30 minutes of blood loss.
30 minutes of shooting and reloading.
30 minutes of dealing with such a loquacious enemy captain.
30 minutes of despair.
30 minutes of hoping HE was hurt but alive along with his allies.
By “he”, he meant Steve. Unfiltered, if gone, John was to torment himself with the next years of his life awaiting him. He had his army, his men, his friends. But there will always be a gap in his heart that will never mend. The gap which will had been space: a space meant for Steve. He is to occupy it and none is to interfere. For Steve was someone who wrote the youth that plastered his face. Steve was the reason why he felt like himself. He already was before, but Steve made it a lot better.
Miraculously, Seether was at his limit as well, chained to a pole that was near a bed, shamefully struggling. He was enough to be called captain, but the goal of annihilation had overdriven his egoism till breaking point, blinding himself to the intelligence and strength that binds “The Man” of Tankmen.
Now we let fate play it’s part as John grabs the last of his grenade and moves towards what would might possibly be the last face he’ll see.
“Dickhead.” He glared at Seether with most obdurateness that he knew he was ready to end it all. “The only thing that fuels you is your hard ego. I expected a lot from ya, and you were a pain in the ass. Take this as an insulting compliment.” He then looked at behind the spot where he threw one of his former grenades, now formed the inferno undeniably expanding every second. He had to finish this quick or else he’s dead meat.
But his wounds and injuries... he can’t escape alive with his state!
It doesn’t matter, it’s all or nothing...
“I’m gonna leave this here.” John said as he then shoved the grenade near Seether’s botched up face, “and I’ll be leaving you here too...” he then retracted the hand with the grenade as his other tightly clutched the chains. It hurts so damn much that it felt like his wounds’ gaps widened.
Seether, somewhat smirked back. Was it that he was ready to accept his fate to let the devil’s flames bathe him or the fact that he has a last-resort plan executed to kill Captain John? Possibly both.
“Some unfamous last words, Captain?” His smirk was getting larger and John was losing it, “It’s almost time for my eternal rest in hell.”
“Why do you need beauty sleep when you’re ugly...” and he really means it. His crude humor was put into good use especially in serious situations like this.
Can’t stand to see his foe’s face any longer, he threw the grenade at the corner near Seether and was about to escape when he realized he was stuck. It turns out Seether’s second to the last sentence bought him little time to pierce a little broken hoop earring into his exposed part of his finger that complemented with the torn glove he wore. The worst part was it was locked along with one of the chain’s hoops.
Time is running out.
But John drained his hesitation of survival with his force to remove his finger from the hoop earring. With strength paid off, the index was set free off the earring’s grasp despite sacrificing a pinch of flesh. He then swiftly eyed on the open dimensions from the wall which supposedly belongs to remains of a window and dashed with all that was left of him before disseminated the holocaust from behind. Dissipating the distance between he and Seether, leaving the chained captain engulfed to incineration.
Seconds after the explosion, survivors were left unaware with what occured, but curiosity caves in urge to find out.
And they got their answers.
In his state, he felt his body being glued to where he lies, eyes fighting to meet the light, as the mixed noises of people began tingling his ear. He honestly had no idea what was going on afterwards and his starve for answers has been taking a toll lately. But one thing came to his mind.
‘Is this a near death experience or am I already dead?’
The same questioned echoed in repeat like a broken record player, but he knew it was up to his senses to seek truth.
Mustering up the strength and courage to unlatch their lids, he has finally woken up.
In a... hospital bed?!
Who, what, where, when, how and why? Is he here?
Oh that’s right, he almost died.
But his memory was fuzzy as for god knows how long. He doesn’t even know why he was here and where the others were.
While digging and wrecking his bandaged head for answers, one of the medics came to check on his status.
“You’re Sir Steve, right? One of Captain John’s closest friends?” The medic asked as she then went closer to Steve, placing her hand on his waist that was immediately treated with surgery, ointment and some clean bandages. Eyeing as well at his bullet wound near his crotch. “It has been 7 hours since you got unconscious.
“Mmm, yeah... Just call me Steve by the way.” He then paused as he realized something. “About what you said, WHERE IS CAPTAIN?!!”
The lady looked at him, eyes struggling to deny waterfalls but kept her composure. The last time she talked with Captain John was when they were in the middle of war with the Thugmen, while she was getting ready to ride in one of the tanks to aid other soldiers.
“If my beloved, Steve, gets hurt or injured, you’ll be in charge of taking care of him. If I die, don’t be direct. Let him out to this cruel world in a wheelchair and let him see for himself. It’s gonna hurt like hell even more, but he has to know.”
“But, Captain, are you certain about that?”
“I’m not fucking kidding here. Also about what I said, yes, Steve and I are in a clandestine homo relationship. You can forget it if you want.”
“I do not mind, Captain. But Steve would get soul-crushed if you fail to come to our aid.”
“I know. But I have no choice. I’d be dead like Ritz the rat before I’d seek for medical emergency anyway. Don’t waste your tools on someone who has barely ounces of life left. Treat our remaining soldiers who faught their asses to survival and carefully put the fallen in their bodybags. Label them too, for it might be a shame for them to have no credit for what they did. My respect goes to all.”
“Roger that, Captain.”
“And lastly, I might get into your nerves again, but don’t tell Steve that I’m dead, rather let him see my bodybag in the spotlight. I’ll implement him as Captain by default as proper late birthday gift, but you can elect someone else if you want and be wise in doing so.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Also, tell him I loved him unconditionally as hell. He can find another mate to fall knees for, but all I hope is that he will never forget me.”
“S-Steve! Where are you going?! You can’t go out like that!” The medic cried as she tried to persuade Steve to get into the wheelchair to meet himself with the reality he was to face. But Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He had to find John. He knows he can’t die that easily!
“Don’t worry! I’m gonna find John!” He then dashed while limping and clutching his wounds, on the brink of swelling his eyes and flowing tears. He didn’t care about his injuries. If he dies while having to run, then at least he’d be able to lay lifeless near the love of his life. And that is all he wanted.
200 body bags laid in dirt. As everyone shared equal mournings, one of the fallen took the spotlight. Haste and desperate he ran in between commotions of tears. Sight of what he saw, one was to die a bachelor.
And that bachelor was Steve.
Corporal John Captain is dead.
Nothing will turn back the clock to fix the outcome.
He has nothing left to live for.
Kneeled near the bodybag, gently caressing the soulless John and somewhat couldn’t stand to see his handsome face one more time.
“You can open it but slightly.” Sniper Ted came limping at him from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t the nicest person in the world, so this was his first time comforting someone for how long he remembered.
Steve then got ahold of the zipper and unzipped the body bag slowly while his limbs shivered and throat was about to explode. He felt his breaking point once he caught the face of his dear John, eyes closed and visor less with the mix of dirt and crimson red on his body.
“Truly I fallen for you, champ. Now get the fuck outta here and kill some hooligans for me.”
“JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHN!!!!!”
—————————
“WHAT THE GOSH DIDDLY DARN ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Steve yelled as he saw one of his drunk allies pissing on John’s grave, “YOU’RE DUMPING YOUR PEE TO SOMEONE SPECIAL LIKE THEY’RE DIRT! RESPECT THE DEAD OH MY GOD!”
Luckily, one of the drunk man’s friends came to bring him back to training. “Sorry he has soured your day today, Cap’n. He took some shots at Frank’s yesterday and I was looking for him.”
“Nah it’s fine. Take him outta here and extend his training. He needs to stop fucking around for heaven’s sake.”
“Will do, Cap’n. C’mon, hurry up, Collin.” He whisper shouted as he dragged his drunk friend away from the graveyard.
And yes, Steve then took the role of “Leader of Tankmen” and had a rough start while trying to recover from what happened, but so far he is doing good with the cooperation of his friends and allies and somewhat went through self-improvement and no longer the incompetent bastard he was in day 1 ( he still is, just better).
Now he was infront of John’s grave. Even after visiting him for how many times, that bittersweet feeling will never leave his heart. Still grief-stricken but he knows that John was proud of the efforts he and his allies have done. They have to start from square one, but he knows someday they’ll live longer even before the world ends in this desert.
“Hey, Cap’n!” Steve greeted enthusiastically with a hint of sadness, which was his way of greeting him while he was alive. Minus the sadness part. “I’m sorry one of the recruits pissed on your grave. It was disrespectful of him, but I’m sure you’d be laughing your arse off in heaven by now. It’s been a bit wack lately since you’re gone. But I’m starting to get the hang of it though.”
He then laid down near John’s grave, picturing a faint figure of him at his side, smiling while smoking clopes, being the conversationalist and sweet talker he was. And most importantly, ruffling his hair and giving a peck on his head. “I hope ya doin’ well up there, Cap. I’m gonna die a bachelor because even then, I am still madly devoted to you, and never will replace you.“
It’s Wednesday, 2 months since John and his other allies’ death. Steve had made it a habit of visiting the graveyard during free time, to spend it with John. It was always John that would take him on his tank either to go patrolling elsewhere, taking shots at Frank’s, or you know, just vibin’. Truly he missed those days. He missed his sweet American accent that would charm every lady and by chance, some men. He missed his stupid dumb cock jokes and his vulgar humor that brightened his dark days. He missed his unconditional support and faith in him ever since he stepped in the militia as a recruit, now the closest friends of the leader himself. And he missed, his love. Unfiltered, because it was from the bottom of his heart. He knew he wasn’t joking when he said it was gay if they make eye contact.
“I’ll never forget ya, John. Even if I olden and cripple up.” Steve yawned as he rested near John’s grave, in bliss.
‘And I’ll never forget ya too, Stevie.’
And he was happy that he gave his final salute while he was still alive.
END