OC Oneshots

Piercing Pains

C/W:
Blood, death, etc...
Co-written by: Im_Not_Old_Sport
Characters:
Johnson Morgan (my OC)
Oordway Walker (my OC)
David Vaihinger (Im_Not_Old_Sport)

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~Story Begins~

The evening had set course for one of the most violent battles that had been fought. Men around shouted, fired their weapons, and hit the ground upon being struck. Oordway stood among this line of men, shouting orders. Being handed a rifle, he made use of his time, lifting the gun to his shoulder and firing before dropping it to reload. Keen eyes remained watching over the field where he knew his lunatic friend would soon make an appearance.

Lifting the gun a second time, he took a steady aim at one of the generals, humming. Had it been a sin to do such a thing? Not that it mattered- Greene's men had done the same to some of the British regimentals. He pulled the trigger before thinking twice, but as the smoke cleared, he swore he felt his heart stop.

He didn't hit the general.

David had been positioned rather close to General Greene, helping give out orders of attack, a proud smile on his face with every shot. He had his hair pulled back, being sure that he could see everything, lessening the chances of friendly fire on his part. He glanced up at his general, opening his mouth to say something before he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He cried out, immediately falling to his knees, clutching where he had been shot. He struggled to hold back tears, obvious fear in his eyes as he attempted to apply pressure to the area, knowing well that there was little he could do.

"Oh my god," Jon spoke weakly, glancing from behind the lines. He hurried over to David, glancing across the field as he knelt. There, standing in complete silence, was Sergeant Oordway. The man had paled and seemed shaken to his core.

Then it struck- the man shot David- his lover.

"Dave," Johnson whispered, easily settling the man onto the grass. "Look at, look at me- I'm going to help you-" He wouldn't dare tell him who had shot him. "I'm going to try-"

David kept his wide eyes, staring at Jon. "Johnson-" He wheezed, his breathing rather quick. "I- It hurts, I-" He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing tears back. "It hurts so much, Jon, christ.."

"I know- but I need you to hang on for me- for Oordway- hang on for yourself!" Johnson insisted, applying pressure to the wound. Though, if it had pierced the man's stomach or other intestines, there wasn't much he could do. He ran a hand through his hair, now beginning to slightly panic. "Dave, I'm going to need to ask you to try and calm yourself a bit- you're bleeding out," He spoke quickly, glancing back.

Oordway had stumbled away from the field, clinging to a tree. His breathing was labored as he tried to comprehend what he just did. David was injured- he could be dead! It's his fault! What is he supposed to do without David? How would he live with himself if the man was gone? God, what is he supposed to do?

He clutched his chest, falling to his knees. Sobs of anguish fell past his lips as he curled into himself. God- why wasn't this life fair?

"Johnson, I'm scared-" Dave whispered, glancing down at his injury. He winced, attempting to steady his breathing, but it was rather hard to do with the pain he felt. "I- I can't calm down, I'm going to die, god-" He mumbled, eyes frantic as he searched the freckled man's face. "Jon, what-" He didn't know what to say. What does one say in a situation like this? Is this how other men had felt, as David ever so carelessly shot at them, not even thinking twice? Were they this afraid? Or had they gone more quickly? He reached for Jon's hand, squeezing it tightly as he clenched his teeth.