The Soldier in the Special Agent
By Mistreated and Forgotten
Summary: Just a little one-shot about Booth back in his Army days during his training.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, all I own is the characters I've created in this story.
A/N: On the eve of the end of a major part of my life/teenage years, I post this story as a dedication to that time. So please enjoy.
-BONES-
There is no I in team. That had been made clear to everyone from day one. If one person screwed up everyone bore the consequences. That too had become clear early on. Recruit training sure as hell weeded out the selfish pricks from the team players.
Seeley Joseph Booth was not a selfish young man. He never complained when his body was pushed beyond the point of exhaustion or when his unit was being punished for one person's mistakes. The years of practise at the hands of an abusive alcohol addicted man that he hated to call his father. In some ways his army training was like being around his father while he was drunk. Just without the beatings.
Don't get me wrong, Booth's father had his moments of being a father but those were over shadowed by the drunken times. It was his grandfather, Pops, who had been more of a father to him and his brother, Jared, than that prick ever had been. I suppose Booth's childhood and family life could have been a contributing factor as to why he joined the army and succeed as well as he did.
Over the course of his training Booth became an excellent marksman and his instructors didn't fail to tell him this. They had even convinced him to train as a sniper. So that's what Booth did. He focused on becoming as proficient he could in the use of firearms and honed in his marksmanship skills, proving to his father that he wasn't the worthless piece of shit his father claimed him to be.
Recruit training wasn't always full of good times like the time he spent out on the firing range. It was more so early on in his training that the good times were few and far between. Quite a few of the bad times were out on the drill square and there was one moment, from the first weeks of his training, which remained with Booth for many years to come.
-BONES-
The crunch of the Drill Sergeant's boots carried along the flat drill square. Bravo Squad had been halted, this could only mean one thing. Someone or several people had screwed up yet again.
"You are the worst recruits I have ever taught! A dog could vomit up a better squad than you. Alignment and cover are not hard! If a single one of you screws up you will all march across this base wrapped in toilet paper."
A laugh had sounded from somewhere near the right flank. The Drill Sergeant with his keen sense of hearing stomped up to the rebellious soldier. He leant in and yelled at the cocky twenty-something. "What's funny soldier?"
"Nothing, Sir!"
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes, Sir!"
The lesson continued on and once again Bravo Squad messed up their marching. The Drill Sergeant mentioned nothing more of his threat. Well that was until they were formed up ready to march to the mess hall for lunch.
The Drill Sergeant watched on as short distance away. A solitary toilet roll clutched in his left hand. He waited for his moment to strike the unsuspecting squad.
The squad braced up in preparation to head off. Without a sound the Drill Sergeant approached the young soldiers. "Everyone, lift their arms," he barked. They were hesitant to lift their arms but did so. Those who had previously believed that their drill sergeant was bluffing sure knew that he wasn't now.
Once he had finished wrapping the squad in the toilet paper the Drill Sergeant stepped back from his handy work and approached McKinnon, who had laughed during the drill session. "McKinnon, you're in charge of the toilet roll." He stepped back, "If there is so much as a single tear you'll all be scrubbing the toilets for a month," his voice, while no longer loud, still held it's authoritative tone.
Booth's squad made it to the mess hall, and everywhere else for that matter, for the remainder of the week without once breaking the toilet paper. This little exercise taught Bravo Squad a thing or two. One: never doubt the drill sergeant; two: their ability to keep correct cover and alignment never faltered again; and three: their teamwork had improved immensely. Not to mention they quickly because the laughing stock of the whole recruit course but that only encouraged Bravo Squad to be their best.