Work Text:
The celebrations went on, and you were lauded as a hero. You accept the praise and the congratulations, even as the world turns a bright blue around the edges, and the ringing in your ears shifts to whispers and crescendoing to loud clicking and shrieking. You try to repeat to yourself that you are a HERO and the hero has a sunset march and a glorious homecoming and FORTUNE.
But it only works for so long.
You forget the word. The words.
And the whispers and the clicking tell you that you are a SOLDIER. You have no homecoming or celebration, only a task. You had been difficult the whispers say. You had set them back. Somewhere in the corner of your mind that can still think through the noise, you are jubilant over that fact. That corner is swept away amidst the ear splitting roars and shrieks that press in to your skull. Now you are obedient, the shrieking rang. Fortune favors obedience. And you can only think, yes, as you feel pinpricks like claws pressing in to your brain.
They need information. Things you had seen fleetingly in washed out blue and rapidly rotating images. You don't have those images anymore.
But you know where to find them again.
