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Night had fallen for quite some time. The stars littered the midnight sky, shimmering and sparkling like diamonds. Cold winter breezes danced about, embracing branches of nearby trees, only to eventually abandon them to flutter somewhere else. They took these chances to bite at the pieces of exposed skin he’d left open on his already cold and paling neck, face, and hands.
Perhaps Blitz would have taken all of these little details into account, if only he wasn't so occupied with the thoughts from today's defuse-the-bomb mission. So many things had gone wrong, but they had been lucky, and the operation had been a success. Quite the miracle really, considering how everyone had come out with some sort of injury ranging from simple bruising and scratches to bleeding and broken limbs.
One heavy, frustrated sigh escaped his chapped lips as he closed his eyes, letting his mind play everything again, seeing what he could have done differently to change the outcome of the horrid nightmare that could have taken the lives of his fellow comrades. He wanted to know every goddamn detail of what could possibly have gone wrong, could possibly have gone better. Was it how they approached the building? Was it the team pairings or the plan in general? Could it have been him? The instructions he’d given to his comrades? Could that be it? He wasn't sure, and this only irritated him even more.
These unknown factors, whichever or whatever they could have been; they’re the reason why Thermite is now stuck in the med bay after receiving a few bullets to his right leg and shoulder from a White Mask. He’d been lucky enough that Pulse had been right behind him, covering his back. Sledge was covered in bruises and scratches from having fallen down a hatch that was shot under him by a terrorist, though the terrorist did get a special greeting from Sledge’s hammer to the face as payback. And Fuze; Fuze was absolutely furious. Maybe furious wasn’t quite the right word, but the man got a nice blade incision along his forearm after having had to wrestle with another terrorist for the defuser. Two new recruits almost died upon just landing in the bloody area from a C4 being thrown from a kill hole the White Masks had created. It was a mess. A huge fucking mess.
Blitz was so deep in his vexing thoughts that he wasn't even aware that another soul had joined him in the room. Rook gazed at his boyfriend for a brief moment from behind, hesitating, before raising a fist to cough into, immediately catching his attention.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, wrapping his arms across his chest in hopes of keeping himself warm, to which the other simply nodded and shuffled over for more room. He then added as soon as he sat down:
"Are you okay, mon coeur? Still thinking about the mission?"
Blitz chuckled. "Is it that obvious?" he responded. "And I'm fine, really."
"You don't seem fine to me. What's wrong? You can tell me, you know?" The Frenchman gently took his lover's hands into his and gave them a reassuring squeeze.
Another sigh left his lips. Blitz knotted his brows together in concentration, pondering and trying to find the correct words, putting them together in a way to really express how he felt.
"It's just... I feel like it's my fault that the mission almost failed today. I should have been more careful, given better and proper commands," the German started, his voice wavering slightly as he poured everything out all at once. Whatever had just come to mind or had been bottled in flooded out of his mouth along with his emotions.
"I was the team leader, yet I failed to keep everyone safe. We could have lost someone today, Julien. I... I just don't know what or where I’ve gone wrong. But I know it’s my fault," Blitz finished, his free hand clasping over his eyes as he leaned his head back.
Rook felt absolutely terrible that all of those things had been weighing his boyfriend down, taken his mind and emotions like some sort of toy to play with. He frowned as he looked sadly at his lover, before raising the hand that he was holding and giving it a loving kiss along the knuckles. His ocean blue eyes found chocolate brown ones, sending them little signals to say that everything was okay. When he lowered their hands, Rook had fully turned his body to face the German; his facial expression soft and warm. A loving smile spread across his face as his lips parted to speak.
"Elias, I'm going to tell you straight that it wasn't your fault. Things can get out of hand and messy sometimes but it will never be your fault."
“But…”
“Let me finish.” Rook cut the German off with a soft titter. “You had the two new recruits with you today. I heard that they decided to play a little game of who was better and rushed in. If anything, it’s on them for disregarding simple instructions from their team leader. So no, it wasn’t your fault and don't you dare blame yourself for this or I'm kicking you in the knee.”
Recalling what had happened during the operation, Blitz remembered hearing Sledge shouting over the com about waiting for the signal. He remembered asking the Scot what was happening on his end but was greeted with nothing but more yelling and then a loud boom. Before he’d had another chance to pose another query, several White Masks had come rushing at him and Fuze. He’d clicked his tongue and since that moment, his mind was only on completing the assignment. He didn’t know that the two recruits had turned the mission into their own kind of game, that they had made a bet on who – according to Sledge- could ‘kick more White Mask butt’ than the other. Even after having almost died from a C4 thrown at them, they had chosen continue ignoring Sledge’s strict order to stay together. The two had rushed him, adrenaline most likely high from the explosion that had happened moments ago, and gone to town with their guns and whatever gadgets they had decided to bring. They had bolted up the stairs to the second floor, rounding the corner and were eventually met with a bomber they had obviously challenged. The bloody dummkopf had wanted to play tag with the bomber, and they would have been blown to smithereens earlier if it hadn’t been for Sledge saving their dumb asses. However, that had been when the poor Scot was sent flying down the hatch.
Blitz opened his mouth to quickly retort but closed it again. He let out a laugh, a clear sign that this worry – if not all of his worries- had been washed away upon hearing what Rook had said. It had answered most of the unanswered enquiries that he had been asking himself for the past few hours, sitting alone.
“I swear you are way too good for me. Thank you, liebling.”
“Damn right I am!”
Another laugh fled his lips, but this time it was accompanied by that of the sweet Frenchman beside him. Blitz, with his free hand, took a hold of Rook’s cheek and brought his face close enough to give his love a kiss. Lips locked in a warm and loving embrace; it was short but passionate, and expressed everything they both felt at that very moment. Parting after the exchange, they gazed into each other’s eyes before a smile sprouted on their faces.
“Can we go back inside? I'm cold and can't feel my fingers anymore,” Rook said, bringing his hands to his mouth and blowing warm air into them in hopes of warming them up.
“I got a better idea for getting warm. Come on,” Blitz snickered cheekily as he stood up, brushing the dirt off his bottom and lending Rook a hand which he took with a wide smirk.
“Really now? I would like to know what's this idea you have in mind is.”
“Oh, don't worry. I know you’re going to enjoy it.”