Strife: A Red vs Blue Fan Fiction

Sleepless

May, 4, 2546

Mother of Invention, UNSC controlled space

23:08

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I watched as the seconds ticked by, the numbers steadily shifting into one higher. Each second by itself felt like a minute, dragging by at an agonizingly slow pace. Despite that, it felt impossible to fall asleep, my eye lids refusing to stay closed, always opening when I wished they wouldn't. Forcing myself to sleep never worked, it just drew me further and further from the thought of sleep.

If I had felt like it, I would have got up, would have done something or another, maybe take a jog around the ship, a workout in the gym. Just something to help me sleep. At this point, I didn't care about what I did. I just wanted at least a couple hours of sleep before heading out to work out with Russia. The problem was, I didn't want to get out of bed. If that wasn't a problem, I would have done something by now, I would have took a jog or something.

I gave myself an exasperated sigh, sharply turning away from the alarm clock. It wasn't doing a bit of good just staring at the screen, watching the seconds tick by and the minutes drag by. I still couldn't keep my eyes closed, staring blankly at the dull coloured steel wall. I wonder if it's against protocol - I still think rules would be a better term for it - to glue something onto the wall. Maybe it would add some colour to this place.

I tried to keep the thoughts out of my head, to maybe give my mind just enough time to finally shut off for the rest of the night that I was allowed to sleep. Little to say, it didn't work. I groaned to myself, flipping on to my back, staring up at the ceiling. I was annoyed with myself about not sleeping. I don't know how long I lied there, just staring blankly at absolutely nothing. At least since since eight or nine. Three or fours hours of nothing.

I gave another overdrawn sigh, shifting to my stomach, resting my forehead on the edge of the pillow. I was about ready to bury my entire face into it. "Can I pay someone to knock me out? Jesus," I muttered to myself, trying to close my eyes. How did Lia used to fall asleep so quickly? She used to pass out within just moments of lying down, and each time I asked her how she managed it she would just smile, wink, and say that someone like her would have to keep their secrets.

I stifled another yawn with the crook of my elbow, facing my alarm clock once again. As it hit 23:30, I muttered "Fuck you," to it, reaching out with the arm that wasn't currently trapped under my pillow and turning it away from me, letting the light glow hit the wall instead of my face. If I could beat the thing without any consequences, I would. But I need the damned thing to be able to get to the morning exercises. Otherwise, I'd sleep right through them.

I let my mind wander, mostly because I knew I wasn't going to get any decent amount of sleep in the coming hours. I ran over our daily schedule - if you could even call it that. No one seemed to actually have an issued schedule, made official by the Director. For the most part, it seemed as if everyone was free to do whatever they wanted, saving time at least every day to get practice or exercise in. The only schedules I've ever seen around the ship were who had the training room booked for their use, the top usually being that chick from Alpha Company, whatever her name was. The red head.

I rarely see Russia's name up there, booked in with the others. I'm just guessing it's because he spends most of his time in the gym or reading that little blue book of his. I don't see him around with the others all that often, just enough to keep them together as a team and group training exercises. Other than that, he's not around them. I don't know where he spends most of his time.

Germany is the loveable douche bag, joking around almost all the time, pulling the stupid - yet somehow hilarious - jokes out of thin air. I think I've heard Italy call him that a couple of times before kicking his ass. What I'm still curious about is the whole cybernetic right arm thing. Italy said it had to deal with a vehicle incident or something of that sort, but I've never actually tried to ask him about it, looked at it curiously. He rarely uses it in combat, unless he seriously wants to cause some damage to your person.

Italy's more of the big sister of the group, breaking up quarrels, starting them herself when she wants a good laugh. She's more of the binding tie for us, I think. I don't know how that works, or why it is how it is. That's how I see her, at least. Or maybe that's because she's the only other girl in the Project that knows me and talks to me.

Aussie. Like Russia, he doesn't talk to terribly much. At least to me. With Germany and Italy alone, that's a whole other story. Germany and him are close friends by the look of it, chatting together all the time when they're together, fighting in the training room, pulling the same jokes out of nowhere. But he's quiet around me, and I wish it was different.

Rome's the techy guy, working not as a full-fledged Freelancer per se, more of a technological guy working in command and prepping us for the day. Almost as perverted as Germany can be. Almost. You can definitely tell he and Italy are brother and sister in the way they talk, not just to each other but to everyone else around them, that boisterous and energized talk that infected the others around them.

Me, the newbie. The gal that worked her way to the top six on her first fight, lost to the first placer and almost screwed up her first mission. I don't know if that's the kind of legacy I want to leave in my tracks. With another sigh, I turned towards the wall one last time and closed my eyes.

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A/n: ... You were expecting me to have Russia come into the room, weren't you? Yeah, I know you guys.

I don't have much to say about this chapter, in all honesty. I don't even know why I'm bothering to do a little author's note when I don't have anything to say. Literally. That what I just said? Rambling. What I'm saying now, rambling.

Come back tomorrow folks and guess what you'll see [ read, hear? ]

More rambling.

Yay!

What, no cheers?

Well… I wouldn't cheer either.

See you!

And, no! This was not a way to get the word count passed a thousand! Before I started this thing, I was already at like 1079 or something like that.

Shush.

BUH-BYE!

-Seekers