"Why them and not me...?" ~Paul H. Backus
The new house was far too large to live in alone. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been kind enough to pay for it, but Jessica still felt it was far too generous. It was gorgeous, one of the largest on the block- three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and huge living space- in a newer development; she shouldn't have felt dissatisfied.
And yet...
It felt strange having so many empty rooms to herself.
She looked in the tall mirror propped up by the door and looked herself over again. Her navy blue- almost black- dress uniform hung sharp and sleek on her frame. Her hair was tied back in a perfect bun, and a military-issued cap was placed neatly atop her head. On her right breast were two rows of thin, colorful ribbons. She couldn't help but look upon them with a sense of ineligibility. Most of them had come at a price far too high, for which she had sacrificed far too little to gain.
A knock on the door brought her focus back. MacTavish was waiting there, dressed in a uniform of his own. She forced a smile. "Thanks for coming to pick me up. It's nice to not have to walk over there while I'm still looking for a car."
He dipped his head and closed the door behind her. "Of course; we might as well all go together. It might even give us a chance to talk before the funeral." He noticed her expression had turned grey and he squeezed her shoulder. "It's gonna be hard on all of us, but it'll be okay." With a reassuring grin, he walked ahead of her to his car, a charcoal grey Vauxhall Insignia.
She tilted her head. All of us? Jessica opened the passenger door and was surprised to see someone sitting in her seat.
"Price..."
The Captain gave a short nod, looking her up and down. "You're looking better. How's your side holding up?"
She smoothed a hand over where the shrapnel had been removed from between her ribs. "It's not as painful as it was." Jessica climbed into the back and looked out the window at his reflection in the side view mirror. "You're looking a lot better since we got home."
His eyes grew distant, almost weary, for just a fraction of a moment before the door opened and Soap sat down in the driver's seat. They nodded silently to each other and the car started.
Though it was ten o'clock in the late autumn, the sun was shining on the hill, golden beams interrupted by the silhouettes of white headstones, old and new alike, studding the cemetery. Walking up the path to the crest of the hill felt more arduous than any hike into rugged enemy territory, as if the sorrow that clung to the air had turned to weights around their ankles. As they arrived, they could see a few familiar faces among a crowd of families of the fallen.
Jessica's hazel eyes slid over to the faces of three privates standing with stone-like expressions on their faces near the back of the crowd. Griffen met her gaze and he pressed his lips together in what might have been a smile if it weren't so sad. She made a similar grin back at him and turned her attention to the front of the crowd.
Price cleared his throat quietly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. "Friends. Family. We gather on this solemn occasion to remember the lives of loved ones who made the ultimate sacrifice for what they believed in. For their country. For all of you."
Soap's jaw worked tight and Jessica could hear his teeth gritting together. She reached out to touch his arm but hesitated, withdrawing when she noticed the glint of tears in his eyes.
"Private Morgan Carter."
Jessica fought back tears of her own. She could still hear him crying, pleading for her help, see his eyes roll up as he clutched at his tattered chest. He was so young... Hardly out of his early twenties. Far too young to be killed as mercilessly as he had been.
Stevens, standing a few yards away, bowed his head at the eulogy. She'd never seen him express anything but arrogance and humor, nothing less than a devious smile on his face. Now he was wiping away tears, hiding his face in sorrow.
"Corporal Namiko Cox." A quiet man; she didn't know much about him, except that his sister lived in Liverpool and raised rabbits. But she still remembered the things he'd said in the truck on the way out of the base... He never got to see his sister again.
Her senses seemed to die for just a moment as Price drew attention to Gaz's casket. She couldn't make sense of what he said, nor could she feel the stirring of the breeze on her skin. All she could see was a blur of colors through a haze of tears that she blinked away as quickly as they flooded her eyes. Her head felt light. She couldn't bear to look back on that memory. Not of the last moment she had seen Gaz alive. It was too much to bear without breaking down.
Jessica noticed two officers walk over to an older couple and a younger woman, passing a neatly folded Union Flag from their white-gloved hands to the older woman who bowed her head, great sobs wracking her frail-looking body. Her husband put his hand on her back, the young woman doing the same, tears in their eyes as they cradled her in their arms.
His family.
When the eulogy was over, the soldiers were invited forward to say their farewells to their fallen comrades before they were laid in their final resting place. Though the others went forward to share a final word, Jessica stayed back. She was hesitant to approach the caskets, but when she finally mustered the courage to do it, her throat closed around her voice, forbidding her to speak. She instead stayed silent, resting a hand on each comrade's entombment.
Gaz's coffin was laid in the ground a willow tree. As he was covered, Jessica felt a hollowness grow within her. He was gone... Really gone. It didn't feel real.
A gun volley sounded off, and what had seemed to take hours to perform was all too soon over. She flinched at each shot and closed her eyes.
Gaz's head rolled back with the last shot.
She squeezed them closed even tighter. God, she wanted to run; she felt sick to her stomach. Where could she go? Another shot rang out and her head was swimming with emotions, and she felt like she might drown.
Silence followed the last shot, and soon the people around her began to mingle quietly, offering condolences to families and friends. Everyone else had moved, but Jess and Gaz's family stood as if cemented to the ground. She stared down at the grass, overwhelmed. What could she say to them? Should she even talk to them?
Though she wasn't surprised, she still flinched when Price touched her elbow. "Are you going to say hello at least?"
She made an uneasy frown. "They don't even know who I am."
"Even if they don't, you two were close. It might be nice for them to share some stories."
At first, she tried to refuse, but he pushed her forward and she sucked in a nervous breath. "Alright, I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She smoothed out her jacket and forced a sympathetic smile.
"Hi. You must be Gaz's family..."
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Hotel Six: A Call of Duty Fanfiction
FanfictionAfter the Battle at the Bridge in Russia, Bravo Team begins their recovery back home, but the past clings tightly to Jessica's mind. When the Ultranationalists rebuild and begin to pose a threat, Task Force 141 is organized. However, something about...