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“Come on, man! You have to at least try,” The man by his side chortled, nudging him with his shoulder.
“Shut up, Athol.” Sachairi growled out halfheartedly, glaring at the other sharply. “Go find someone else to dare…I’m not doing that.” Sachairi knew that despite how annoying Athol was being, he was really a nice kid. They’d been friends for long enough to know that.
“It’d be so funny, though!” Athol protested, his voice nearly a whine. He sounded like a toddler. “Surely Lt. Ramsay will find it funny. Just do it.”
Sachairi couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of the man. He was so stoic he didn’t even know if he’d felt an emotion his whole life. Yet despite Athol’s nagging, he knew he was his superior, and had to decline. He couldn’t afford to play a prank, not with the rank he’d earned by now.
Sighing sharply, he pushed himself to his feet. He heard Athol let out a sound of complaint from behind him, but he paid no mind, stalking off to the briefing.
The pregame speech Lieutenant Ramsay gave didn’t end up being very interesting. Important mission this, incredible intel that. Sachairi could tell it’d be all the same as every other mission. In and out, minimal casualties.
Well, there might be a casualty if Athol doesn’t stop blabbering in his ear.
“Dude, this is our big chance. We can prove ourselves! You make a crazy shot, I get the intel, and we’re sure to be promoted!” Athol chattered, being noisy as always. Sachairi was shocked that his loud mouth hadn’t gotten him killed yet.
Sachairi grumbled something incomprehensible, finishing packing up his sniping gear. “C’mon. We’ve got to get to transport before they leave without us.” He couldn’t help but snicker at the way Athol squeaked and packed up his own stuff. That was one way to get him off his back.
The two casually hopped onto the helicopter, Sai’s gear held securely in his hands and Athol’s slung worthlessly over his shoulder. Briefly greeting their comrades, they were off to the battlefield.
Most of the ride was boring. Nothing happened during most transports. A couple younger newbies tried to strike conversation, but went quiet rather fast when it became clear nobody was in the mood for talking.
Sachairi sighed as they stepped off the helo, Athol jogging behind. He ignored him. Paying attention to his own role, he searched for a good sniping spot to set up his gear. The thick brush would provide good cover from the cliff, so he decided that would be his station. He began putting his gun together, putting up the stand, wiping the scope. Going prone, he flipped off the cover to watch the rest of his team scamper off to the enemy base, providing them defense from sneak attacks. Tightening the muffler, he takes a man down.
“Clear.” Sachairi huffed over comms, shifting where he laid.
“Affirmative, Sergeant.” Another voice he couldn’t pin a name onto responded.
The mission went smoothly. Sachairi only had to take down a few guys, the others took them down in close-range. He was just about to get ready to go when he heard that there was a problem below.
Quickly returning to position, he locked onto his team. One of the soldiers were held down by another, knife pressed to her throat. The man on top was one of his few comrades that he knew the name of. Sergeant Peige.
Sachairi felt dizzy as he watched the scene in front of him. He felt like a kid all over again, standing at the top of the stairs and watching his parents fight.
Wide-eyed, he tried to say something but his voice cracked and was too quiet to be understood. His ears felt like they were ringing as he attempted to steady his aim. His hands shook too bad. He heard his Lieutenant in his ear, telling him to do something, to save the Sergeant. It felt like background noise to him.
“You have to do something, Sachairi…He’ll kill her.” A voice whispered in his ear, dragging him further into his mind. It was slow, sweet, and drowsy. His mother’s voice.
He took aim at his fa-- the enemy soldier, taking a moment to catch his breath. When he decided it was impossible, his finger simply curled around the trigger, preparing him for the recoil. His hands were shaking too bad for it to be a precise shot, but he had to do something. He couldn’t let this happen. Not again.
Exhaling sharply, Sachairi pulled the trigger, the recoil pushing him back slightly. He watched as the others flocked to Peige, making sure she was alright and some going to restrain the spy. He leaned back, going to catch his breath. He counted in his head, trying to get his rapid breathing to slow. His chest burned, his hand clutching it. Sachairi’s eyes darted around, trying to ground himself. As he regained his senses, he felt burning pain going through his leg.
Eyes darting down, he noticed a bear trap clutching his ankle. How did he miss that? He tried to pry the jaws open, giving a low whine when the teeth dug further into his flesh. Sachairi screwed his eyes shut, breathing heavy as the pain coursed through his body. His comms sat just too far away, having been discarded when the recoil had hit.
Cursing lowly, he tried to search for something to help himself. Branches, leaves, more branches…nothing he could use. He only stopped when he heard a twig snap behind him.
Slowly turning around, he tried to grab his pistol. It was kicked away from him by a dark boot. He bit back a whine, looking back up at the figure. He’d recognize that uniform anywhere. The enemy’s uniform. In a panicked scramble, he clawed at their ankles and tried to drag them down. They stood steadily, shaking his hands off. He felt like a dog, nearly begging him for help.
The soldier muttered something in a language he didn’t understand, staring at him with sympathetic eyes. Despite how Sachairi despised that look, that look could get him help. He gestured to the bear trap, then at the other.
There was some level of understanding from the man. Enough that he knelt down by his side, observing the trap, and nudging it. That tore a whimper of pain from the injured man’s throat, causing him to recoil.
“Shh. Sei still.” The soldier murmured, holding his leg down. He fished something from his belt and used it to work on the jaws of the bear trap, slowly forcing it open.
Sachairi groaned in pain as blood gushed from his wound, biting his wrist so he wouldn’t yell. He didn’t think he’d felt anything this bad before. All he wanted to do was howl in pain and writhe around on the ground, but he knew that’d alert more of the enemy. He was sure this soldier would be in more than trouble if he was caught helping him.
Barely managing a breathless “Thank you”, he tried to get up. He was held down by strong hands. He struggled to make out the words being spoken to him, but heard them slowly fade to English instead. The man’d clearly realized he wasn’t understanding.
“Bleib unten, du Idiot… Just moving will injure you more than that trap.” They grunted, rummaging through their belongings again, rapidly retrieving… bandages. Sachairi stared at them for a moment, flabbergasted. He’d assumed he was being freed because he was going to be captured. All he could do was watch as he made a makeshift splint and wrapped his wound. It was nothing professional, but it was enough to keep him from bleeding out.
The person, clearly as stupid as him, just looked confused. “Ist etwas auf meinem Gesicht?” They asked curiously, cocking their head.
“What are you doing?” Sachairi responded, narrowing his eyes. He wasn’t one to complain about gentle treatment, but this just felt… insane. Wrong. Abnormal. Like a wolf helping a sheep escape its jaws.
“Was glaubst du, was ich mache? I am helping you.” They grumbled, tying a knot around the splint. It seemed rather strong for an ordinary soldier’s skill. “Get up.”
Giving them a strong glare, Sachairi wobbled to his feet and leaned on a nearby tree. His ankle throbbed, his body protested, but he didn’t let that hold him down. He could hear his comms being flooded with confused and concerned dialogue from his Lieutenant, searching for him because of his prolonged silence. He knew he couldn’t let him find this soldier. But neither of them could be caught at this point.
Sachairi gnawed at his lip, glancing back at the soldier. “What now?” He tried to prompt, praying for them to know enough English for a proper conversation. “We’re equally stuck. You get caught by my team, you’re killed, but if I get caught by your team, I’m dead.”
The soldier hesitated, understanding the fact that they were in a tricky situation. They nodded slowly and took off their own radio, tossing it next to Sai’s discarded one. “We kann nicht go back. You are right, it would be suicide to return.” They shook their head. “We are between our sides.”
For a moment, they simply looked at each other. They could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Their only option was to flee. So Sachairi cautiously approached the other man, slowly and hesitantly leaning on him for support. The man’s hand was warm on his hip, keeping him upright. It felt oddly comforting, being held so gently by such a violent man. It almost made his heart flutter, but he scolded himself for it.
The two slowly walked together, Sachairi leaning his weight on the larger man. His ankle still hurt to high hell, but leaning on him made it hurt less. He found himself growing comfortable as they stumbled in sync, the tension escaping his muscles and his guard slowly lowering.
His legs were burning by the time they got somewhere safe to stop. He limped into a village, seeing that it was dead. Their unsteady footsteps were the only sound around them.
The man slowly lowered him to the ground, checking his ankle and rebandaging it. His hands were soft. Sachairi found himself enjoying the gentleness of it, sitting compliantly.
His ankle was bandaged with new, white and clean, bandages. They felt nice against his skin, not too rough but tight and comforting. Kind of like this man he’d met. He grumbled under his breath, frustrated that he was allowing himself to be so vulnerable around this man. He was hardly able to do that around Athol, and this guy… he’d only known him for a few hours. It scared him.
Sachairi let himself relax on the stairs he was set on, albeit uncomfortably and stiffly. It hurt his back, but those gentle hands on his throbbing ankle dragged his attention away from it.
The two sat there for a while, taking a break from their excruciatingly long walk. He rested his head on the other’s shoulder, allowing himself a moment of comfort. Sachairi closed his eyes. He tried to convince himself it was because his eyes hurt from the sun, because his head was pounding, but he knew deep down it was just to be close to the stranger. He despised how it felt sweet, how the silence made it feel intimate. He told himself he hated it, because he should. He should hate all of this, should hate how close he was to the enemy, should be shooting this man down and returning to his team. But he couldn’t will the butterflies from his stomach.
Only just as Sachairi began to relax, he was whipped back and became acutely aware of his surroundings. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his chest felt tight. Eyes darted around, searching for the threat. Footsteps fell outside. Neither him or the other soldier moved for a few moments, waiting to hear them leave. And when they didn’t, the other slowly drew his pistol and stood.
“Bleib hier. I’ll be back.” The man whispered, creeping to the door. Taking a defensive position, his pistol was aimed at the door, waiting for someone to enter. Sachairi couldn’t help but admire his form.
“Can you see them?” Sai asked quietly, shifting to look at the window. Mere moments after he spoke, all hell broke loose.
The door slammed open, catching the soldier off guard. Sachairi recognized the newly appeared person to be another enemy. Their eyes latched onto his, and he scrambled to get out of the way of their shotgun barrel. The bullets landed in the wall, making a hole. Panting from the excruciating pain, he tried his best to avoid getting a gun to his head.
He’d fully expected the man he met to capture him now, now that he had backup, but he stood his ground with his pistol. Two pops echoed through the room, shots from a gun, and the new soldier dropped to the ground. Dead.
Sachairi clutched his chest, breathing heavy and shocked. He was still trying to comprehend the situation when the man knelt by his side.
“Did he hurt you? Geht es dir gut?” They furrowed their eyebrows as they examined him, searching for an inevitable bullet hole or scrape. They let out a sigh of relief when they found none, rubbing his arm. “Look at me.”
Slowly dragging his gaze up to the other, Sachairi let his hand fall limp against his chest. His breathing began to calm, the threat gone. “You…” He trailed off, unable to find his words. “You saved me. Again.”
The man cackled, covering their mouth. “Why would I not?” They stared down at him, and Sachairi took the moment to gaze into his eyes, observing the little details. How his eyes scrunched up, the little specks of green and brown everywhere, the life in them.
“...Hey. Are you in shock? Look, look at me, hier,” They waved a hand in front of his face, bringing him back to the present.
“No… No, I’m alright. Uh, we should get going… reinforcements might be coming.” He mumbled, moving to get to his feet. The man eagerly helped him up, grabbing his waist and holding him upright. Sachairi’s heart was racing in his chest, for reasons other than the panic of the situation.
Sachairi wasn’t very cautious around the man now. He wasn’t a threat anymore, more like an ally. He still thought about how he’d saved him as they walked, debating bringing it up. He opted to just talk instead.
“...I never got your name.” He pointed out, his hand slowly snaking around the other’s waist as well, mirroring theirs.
They glanced over at him, smiling softly. “Oh, ja. I’m Wolf. Wolf Gunther.” Wolf hummed, seeming content with Sachairi. “I did not get yours either.”
Sachairi blinked, nodding. “Sachairi McKee.” He murmured, a small smile creeping up onto his lips. He pressed slightly closer to Wolf, holding onto his shoulder. “Thank you. For helping me.”
“It is no problem, comrade,” Wolf grinned, patting his head. He was being awfully friendly for the two of them previously being enemies.
It felt odd, so casually chatting with a man who’d likely killed so many other Scots. But it was oddly comforting in a way. Sachairi felt like Wolf could protect him. He felt… safe. Safer than he’d felt in years. He sighed softly, resting his head on Wolf’s shoulder and feeling the other’s fingers threading through his hair. Maybe things would turn out alright between them.