Soby: An Oath of Peace and War

42: Militant Ceremony (1)

The following day Bret was up unusually early. After suffering one of his many nightmares, he couldn't fall back asleep. Realizing it was Saturday, he stepped out of bed.

Skye woke up, "Stay in bed. I want your warmth."

Bret frowned, "Sunshine, I can't sleep."

Skye sat up slightly worried, "Why can't you sleep?"

"Tracker haunts me. Showing I failed to complete my main objective." Bret sighed as he looked for his phone.

"Just come back to bed." Skye laid down, "I'm getting lonely in your bed."

Bret laid back down with his chest facing her. Skye could feel his skin burn with fear as they lay in bed huddled together. She kept scooting in so he would feel better about the whole ordeal. Bret still couldn't fall back asleep, "Skye, I made a promise to kill Tracker. Kill him for what he did to you back at the hospital."

Skye frowned, "That could've been worse. Thanks to security he was stopped from even touching me."

Bret didn't want to waste any time, "Crap."

Skye looked up at him, "What?"

"Today is the ceremony." Bret sighed quietly, "Do you have a nice dress you could wear?"

"I didn't think about that, but I might have something similar to a nice dress," Skye replied worriedly.

"You know what I mean right? You have to dress formally. This is something huge." Bret took deep breaths, "This is a ton of anxiety for me. I don't think I can deal with it."

"Soby, please relax." Skye giggled.

"Did you just call me Soby?" Bret asked bewildered, "A nickname I've only gotten called by teammates?" 

Skye nodded, "I call you by your nickname when you aren't around. It's funny when I say it."

Bret could only laugh, "Have you been doing this the entire time?"

The pink-eyed girl blushed heavily, "Did you just figure this out?"

The clock read 5:48 in the morning, they couldn't be loud. Yet, they didn't care. It was only them who we were up to nothing but laughing and being awake early. Two minutes go by and Bret's alarm goes off, making the silence more hilarious. Skye went into the bathroom and decided to keep the door unlocked behind her. Bret kept getting ready, holding his uniform up to his chest.

"Damn it, I don't think this fits anymore. Did I lose that much weight?" Bret frowned and opened the door to the bathroom, "Does this look like it would—"

Skye was half-naked in the bathroom sitting on the ground, silently crying to herself. Bret stood confused as he stood at the half-opened door. As he thought about his next step, he set the uniform down on the couch and decided to walk into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he fell to his knees, putting a hand on her shoulder. Nothing was stopping her from crying. Bret felt helpless in the situation, only breathing and patting her shoulder.

The blue-eyed boy's voice shook in worry, "Honey, are you okay?"

Skye looked up at him, "No. I'm not."

"I swear if this is Ella's doing," Bret growled.

"It's not her." Skye wiped her eyes, "It's my fault."

Bret sighed, "This isn't your fault. Someone is behind your pain. It's not me is it?"

Skye couldn't hold herself together, "It's Oscar, Ella, and Chris who keep giving me shit."

"For what? Who you are? Or is it because of me?" Bret frowned.

"Honestly, I don't know anymore." Skye crawled over to Bret, getting held by him.

"Ah, I'm not wearing any shorts or panties." Skye moaned quietly.

Bret blushed, "Where the hell are they?"

"Bathroom." Skye giggled.

Bret walked over to his shorts drawer, "Just put these on. You'll get warm with them on. Trust me."

"I trust you with every part of me." Skye giggled. Bret walked to the bathroom and turned the light off there. He walked back into his room and closed the door behind him. A smirk lit his face, leaving the girl wanting more from him. He jumped into his spot on the bed, grabbing her by the hips and kissing her passionately. She gave in to his love, removing his shirt.

"You like this?" Bret gently pulled back from Skye's lips.

"Yes, I love you." Skye pulled him back in during their love exchange, feeling his chest and caressing the bare scars shown before her very eyes.

***

The time was 10:30, only 2 hours before the ceremony. Bret dressed formally in military wear, sporting his now "veteran" uniform. With a speech included. Marshall, Everest, and Rocky all wore what Bret wore, except they didn't have a hat as the other soldiers did. Their regiment, the 1st Pogoren Resistance Unit stood strong with the 83 people made up of the soldiers and survivors who made it out alive. Others suffered unlucky losses but made sure to keep going for them. 

Bret smiled, "Ivano! You made it."

"Lieutenant Sobehrad. Glad you made it too." Ivano greeted.

"Lieutenant? That's a high rank for a young guy like me." Bret was surprised by what his rank was.

"I've read your journaled kills. Your handwriting needs a little work." Ivano handed him the journal, "Commander Tyson told me to give you this. The journal of all the intel you collected about the warehouse, the hospital, and even the hideout Qatar lived in. Impressive work comrade."

Bret saluted, "All part of the job sir."

Ivano laughed, "You're a good kid. Keep it up."

Ivano walked away into the crowd. Leaving Bret by himself to wonder, "What if I had died in Graznavia? Not even Vyseni, mind you."

"Hey, comrade!" A familiar voice made Bret turn to his right, "How have you been?"

"Who is that calling my name?" Bret asked himself, bewildered.

"You don't remember me?" The voice had a Russian accent.

"Benny!" Bret laughed, "How are we doing today?"

Benjamin laughed, "I haven't been called that since I was a teen!"

"Bret, a word in my office, please." The commander stood stern.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right there." Bret walked to Tyson's office.

Marshall stood happily with his parents, Everest with her dad, and her older brother Blizzard. Rocky had no one to be proud of him. He sat in a chair, depressed as if no one loved him. Bret tapped his shoulder, "Go talk to my dad. He's proud of you."

Rocky nodded and proceeded to walk to Grant, "Thank you."

Bret knocked on the door of Tyson's office, "Come in."

Bret opened the door, "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"No, but there's an issue found in the mission logs. I need you to explain it." Tyson huffed.

"Why me, sir? You have others—" Bret was interrupted by the bang of a fist on the desk.

"I SAID YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT! GOD DAMNIT!" Tyson yelled at the defenseless boy.

"Show me. Show the issue you found." Bret stared at the commander.

"This! This is the issue! TARIK WAS AN ALLY!" Tyson slammed his fist on the desk.

"Call in Ivano. I'm requesting a witness." Bret fired back.

"I don't need to call in a foreign soldier! He won't help you either way." Tyson pointed at the boy. Bret stood scared with nothing to help him win this battle. Tyson could chew him out even more about the arm brace and even the ignorance of his friends. While going into heavy combat and saving him when he was giving nothing to stop the mortar teams. Bret now felt nothing but defenseless, "When does Tarik's death become my problem? I didn't kill him."

"Then why is it in the miss—" Tyson realized his mistake, and now he couldn't fix a specialty after yelling at what he thought was one of his soldiers.