Till Death Do Us Part

Home Sweet Home

         A/N: This is a fairly short chapter, just trying to give a taste of what you might find in the future. Thanks for reading! 

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          It was morning, sweet morning. Pat sat up, yawning as everyone else was rushing to get ready. Being a close man to the leader gives you lucky advantages, but you still have to be lenient with him, cause if you take too much advantage it's not going to end pretty. He looked over to his partner; still sleeping. Pat stretched as he got up and pulled over the sheets covering him. He touched his bare feet to the cold concrete floor, sending shivers down his spine. He slowly shuffled over to the man sleeping, more like snoring.

"Paul, Paul it's time to get up let's move. We're gonna be late." Pat said as he nudged the man with his hand. Paul groaned and rolled over. His eyes opened slightly as he looked around. "Yes, everyone's gone, they just left." Pat said rolling his eyes.

"I really wish he'd give us more time, they dress too fast." Paul groaned. His voice was low and quiet as he spoke. Paul cleared his throat and threw off the sheets, shivering as he did so.

"Well, we are in the army, we aren't children anymore. Or should I say, 'an' army, not an official one, but it's close enough." Pat said as he got into his drawer and pulled out his uniform. Paul sighed and did the same, shivering every once and awhile as he got dressed. There was no heating, just their own warmth was enough, thought the red leader. It was mid summer but it still got cold from time to time, especially in the mornings. Paul paused for a moment as he watched the other man get dressed. He had slipped his sweater on so easy, then came the jacket. He had put it on like it was nothing.

          Paul blinked and quickly started to put his clothes on. He took a deep breath and then slipped his sweater through his arms, but the neck got stuck. He couldn't fit his head through the hole. He groaned, his arms sticking out of the sleeves at head height. How did it not fit, he thought. He fit it on just fine yesterday. Pat turned and looked at Paul as he struggled. Pat chuckled,

"Need a little help with that?" Pat chuckled again. He walked over to Paul and helped slide it down over his head. They looked down at the sweater, it was too short, it hung just above Paul's stomach. "Huh, must have shrunk in the wash." Pat declared. Pat turned around and reached into his drawer, pulling out one of his sweaters. "Here, you can borrow one of mine," Pat grinned. Paul smiled back and went to grab the sweater before realizing that he could hardly move the sleeves of the one he was wearing. Paul chuckled and started to take the sweater off; with Pat's help of course.

          Paul slipped on the sweater he borrowed from Pat, and quickly got his uniform jacket on. Both him and Pat rushed towards the door before watching it fly open.

"Paul! Patryck!" The man yelled. "You're late."

          Pat and Paul froze, they looked at the man in the door, then at each other. They looked back and quickly saluted the man,

"So sorry Tord, we didn't mean-" Paul tried to say but was cut off.

"It's 'sir' to you two for now," Tord said. Both Paul and Pat stood straight and saluted once more; but before they could say anything, Tord interrupted once more.

"I need you two to work down at Gun Holding today. Daniel, well, had a little accident with the guns and so he won't be working with us for a while. I just need you two to replace his position for now until we can find someone new." That was odd, Daniel was always careful with the guns, always had them in up to date condition. What was so bad that he had to be laid off and a whole new person replacing him? Oh well, sometimes bad things happen to good people.

          Tord smirked and turned around after watching Paul and Pat in their endless gazing through his words. Wasn't easy with these two dorks, he had thought. Reminded him almost of his friends back home. His friends, home, his favorite sweater. Home. Home sweet home. Friends are forever. Home is where the heart is. Home.. .

Door?

          Tord stopped in his tracks as he realized he mindlessly led Paul and Pat to Gun Holding. He opened the door and guided them through. For about an hour Tord showed them the rules and what to do before getting ready to leave. As he left out the door he remembered one last thing.

"Oh, and Paul? Come see me after work, we need to talk."