First story I did with a Sam and Baird, but I've been reading almost all their stories on here, and I fell instantly in love with them in Gears Of War, so I just had to do a story. It takes place after the events in Gears Of War 3
Hope you enjoy~ BrEeZy
What Have You Done. With The One I Love?
Running his fingers through his rather matted hair, the blonde COG blinked three times as if shutting his eyes for a few brief seconds would rid his dull headache, and blurry vision. Snorting loudly at his 'foolishness' Baird leaned forward sluggishly his usual crisp movements now tampered with a smooth liquid that slid down his throat easily. He never thought he'd become one of those people; the people that drank away their sorrows and washed more and more of their mind away but it was so easy to lose yourself in the temptation, and to hell with it. What was there to do anymore? No thrilling battles were going to land right on his dusty boots now with the war over. It was so eerily quiet all the time, the celebratory rants paired off with the cheers that echoed victoriously through the hotel was now replaced with hushed murmurs and the occasional fights that broke out. No. People were not adjusting to the stillness in the air quite as well as the stick-asses had hoped. What had they expected anyways? Some peace to enter through their war-ravaged mind? Some sort of invisible medicine that would heal all the pain and suffering. Ah, why the hell did he care anyways? He had more important things to worry about.
Speaking of...
His powder blue eyes pinned, or tried to pin, themselves onto yet another bottle of cheap beer he'd managed to salvage, and sloppily he brushed off various scraps of metal that littered his worn desk. Grim moonlight streamed through his grit covered window just illuminating his room to be able to see...If you got orientated. Clasping his hand around the chilled bottle he raised it upwards and eagerly drank the contents inside. It was just so easy to...Let go. Let go of all the goddamn memories that always seemed to follow him everywhere. So, draining the remaining liquid he fumbled for another bottle his movements still slow but they held some robotic form to them, as if it wasn't exactly Damon Baird fingering another glass. It was somewhat mesmerizing to watch the pattern continued well into midnight and the unaware soldier had a small audience of one that truly was fixated. But it was more of the horrified talons that clawed at her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Arose the tanned woman her voice sounding somewhat strained and perhaps a little annoyed.
At first it was as if Baird hadn't of heard her, or if he did he certainly wasn't going to reply anytime soon. So after a few heartbeats and the occasional sigh from Sam, or the slug of beer he replied without even turning towards the black-haired woman.
"What's it look like I'm doing? Building a fucking spaceship?"
Nostrils flared ever so slightly before Sam crossed the bottle covered floor and without even a hint of hesitation she slugged Baird on the shoulder with half of her might, her tags clanking together with the sudden movement.
"What the hell!" Tensions were running incredibly high in this ticking-time-bomb-hotel but it hadn't exactly flickered across his mind that Samantha Bryne would go a little crazy, but then again when did he ever think of her pathetic existence? Then again...She always was just simply a bitch.
Refusing to bring his hand anywhere near the presumably bruised patch as a act of defiance and protecting his pride, the drunken Baird stumbled to his feet the squeaky chair tipping over onto the stained carpet and he glowered down at Sam, his eyes ferocious and there was no trademark 'Baird smirk' across his lips.
Refusing to be unnerved by his height advantage plus his steaming anger, Sam tilted her head upwards until she started talking in a low deathly voice,
"You are a fucking idiot. All you've been doing these past few days is drink and drink, and oh yeah what was that last one? Drink. You're wasting your t-alents (the word had to be forced out of her) which could be used on helping. Remember? You're kind of a technical genius." Curling her lip in an odd snarl at her last words, she proceeded on. "Now get off your sorry ass and just...Do something." Her finishing words weren't exactly that strong of a speech closer, but she just felt too worn out to even try for some witty ending, or smart ass remark. As much as she tried to conceal it her exhaustion showed plainly on her hollow face, and even her voice seemed drained. Pressing a hand to her forehead and brushing her black hair out of her face, her optics roamed around Baird's 'hidey hole' and with each look she became more and more saddened. Unhappy? About this asshole? Yeah.
The blonde still hadn't reacted and his while his mind desperately tried to piece together words from his hazed state of being, his heart pumped slowly reminding him that it was night; and he was tired. A large yawn escaped his lips, which was followed by a sharp shove in the chest by a tired and impatient woman.
Then suddenly the fury rushed in once more, and Baird found himself glaring openly at Sam with his heart still pumping slowly, and his bed calling to him but he ignored the metaphor and instead let the anger boil more and more underneath his skin. The silence was still stretching close to the three minute mark when Sam threw her hands into the air and opened her mouth to probably say more and that's when his fist collided with her face.
Time seemed to slow but with her jaw still slanted downward with the preparation of words Sam stretched her eyes with freezing shock, but was unable to block or avoid the blow, and the force came painfully into her face, enough to make her feet trip over themselves and her hand to grasp the corner of his desk to stop herself from falling.
Fresh pain throbbed on her left cheek but it wasn't as sickening as what she felt inside. Then the tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to finally let lose but she was able to wrangle them in, and keep the damn things from sliding down. Sam Bryne had been able to take multiple gun shots in the battle field, she'd been stabbed, hit with debris from a grenade, and quiet honestly the list could go on but somehow this was much, much worse. She could handle the physical aspect he hadn't hit her with all his force, even if her face would surely be bruised just like his shoulder, but what she couldn't handle was what she mentally felt. This was Baird her teammate. Sure, they bickered and seemed to go out of their way to annoy each other but never in a million years would she think he'd hit her.
Staring into his blank eyes for some sort of motive or betrayal of guilt was like searching for a nettle in a haystack and that hurt too. That he didn't even feel the slightest twinge of regret. 'It's just the alcohol.' Sam miserably thought a poor effort to comfort herself. Baird was still in there somewhere.
"Well princess, you gonna stand there like the moron you are? Or are you gonna get the hell out?"
His rough voice broke the uncomfortable silence and the whole entire time he'd been watching her with narrowed eyes that had only glanced once at his calloused hands.
She could of beat the shit out of him, kneed him in the balls, or anything along the lines of that but instead Sam quietly stood up straighter and started past Baird but his arm suddenly shot out as he grabbed her arm in a not so gentlemanly manner.
Sam met his blazing eyes with the same look, unless you counted the tiny flicker of pity, and tensely waited while the thought of breaking his wrist crossed through her mind.
"Better watch your back bitch."
Was all he said, leaning closer so that Sam could get a good whiff of his alcohol drenched breath and she wrenched her arm away, before looking away and pushing open his door. It was then slammed shut.
Damon Baird was once again alone, and he managed to stumble back to his bed before collapsing and slipping off into a dreamless sleep.
"Rise and shine Damon baby! It's a perfect day, and whooah. Your room looks like a trash can." An overly optimistic man's voice boomed into Baird once silent room, and instinctively the blonde pulled the covers over his head so that only a few spikes of his hair peeked out at Cole.
The large man's eyes became slightly distant as they took in every bottle, before he shook his head and tapped his friend on the shoulder twice, before shaking him. Neither of his acts worked. So Cole did the only sensible thing a best friend would do. Rip the covers off of Baird.
"It's 12:00 buddy, their serving lunch at the cafeteria, and if you don't hurry up I'm going to eat your portion. Carmine already ate your breakfast and I called dibs. And I think I'll take this." His last words were geared towards the blanket, and with that he exited Baird's room with a sheet in his hands.
"Shit." Baird muttered sitting upright with his legs dangling over the side of his bed. Trying his best to ignore the pounding in his head that seemed to grow louder and louder, he dizzily got to his feet and half-crawled half-crab walked into his bathroom, just in time for his body to rid itself of his previous choice of drink into the cracked toilet. Puking once more, Baird then rummaged through his left drawer for a cloth, which he evidently found. It had a large oil stain, but he'd basically bathed in oil and grease so it really didn't matter. After he dampened the cloth, he pressed his back against the tiled wall, before bringing the washcloth to his temple, massaging it through the cloth and that's when images of last night were suddenly flashing through his mind.
No longer having a hand to support it, the washcloth slapped onto the ground as his arms fell limp against his sides, feeling like deadweight just like his heart that was now heavy with fresh dread. Staring straight ahead to the fallen mirror, he jolted with subtle shock at the man that stared back at him. This wasn't him, right? What had he become? Casting a glance through his open door at the scattered beer bottles he groaned out loud before he klutzily got to his feet. Sighing with the knowledge that he'd have to track down Sam and apologize made him cringe outwardly but perhaps he just knew that an apology wouldn't cut it.
Shakily he changed into clean casual clothes (no one wore armor now, what was the point? Stranded weren't near them) and then walked out of his room into the desolate hallway. Falling into that awkward sound of his boots sounding ridiculously loud against the soft silence, it took a short period of time before he entered the cafeteria. He found his 'group' right away; after all they weren't that hard to spot, what with Cole and his massive frame, plus the bright blanket that now was hanging over a spare chair, Marcus, who was a bit of a celebrity here even though Baird was sure he didn't like the attention, and then Anya with her platinum blonde hair that could be spotted from a mile away. No Sam.
Not finding what he was searching for, not to mention he wasn't in the mood for chitchat that Anya or Cole would most likely drag him into, Baird turned on his heels and wandered into the hallway, the hangover feeling following him every step. Unfortunately for the soldier that wanted to be left alone, he heard soft footsteps following him, before a pale hand was placed on his shoulder.
"Hey Baird." After years of directing Delta Squad through all the shit they'd been through, her voice always sparked some suppressed memories, but it was always paired off with the same calm tone, and Baird didn't need to turn around to know it was Anya.
"Finally peeled yourself away from Mr. Talkative over there?" Baird asked dryly, coming to a halt while spinning around to face the female gear. Not one of his best jabs but still.
Not reacting to his sarcastic words Anya instead studied Baird with Bernie-like eyes, and she bit her lip with subtle concern before forcing a small smile on her lips.
"Have you seen Sam anywher-?"
"No. Why the hell would I know where she is?" Baird rushed in rather quickly, before Anya even had a chance to complete the word, and she cocked an eyebrow but he beat her to it, "Why?"
Still looking curious Anya tapped her fingers once on her pant leg until saying carefully,
"No reason. Just I don't think she's in her room, and she hasn't come to breakfast or lunch."
Feeling a twinge of worry in his chest, that he'd try his hardest to refuse he'd even felt such a thing, Baird shuffled his feet until he cleared his throat uncomfortably, recalling last night's events and once again he felt a wave of guilt before pushing away those thoughts.
By then it was too late, and clearly Anya had seen some sort of emotion flicker across the COG's face and her curiosity grew even more once she recognized it as concern.
"I'm sure she's fine. Probably just took her rat bike out or something. She can take care of herself too…" She piped trying her best to sound casual, but also in a comforting manner.
Catching on right away Baird rolled his eyes at Anya before grunting,
"I could care less."
"Thanks for the interest Anya, I'm ok." Chipped in the accented woman, as her arms crossed over her chest, and her face turned to the right. "Just took my Rat Bike for a spin." She added, her eyes all for Anya and they didn't even acknowledge that Baird was standing right there…Rather awkwardly.
"Oh. Well then…" Anya replied, appearing a tad flustered and still she felt the tug of curiosity until she dragged herself away and went back to join Marcus at the table.
"Sam…" Started the masculine as he stepped forward, his arm reaching out to touch hers but she swiftly jerked away, her eyes now focusing on Baird intently, but they swam with regret as well as a simmering anger. But that wasn't what made Baird's stomach lurch.
As well as her regret, and anger they also held a fear that shadowed her face and he recalled her jerky movements just a few seconds ago. His own gave found itself onto her left cheek, and a ugly bruise had formed overnight, and once again he felt like creeping back into the bathroom for round three.
Without saying anything Sam turned around and started away from Baird, leaving his eyes to pin after her, words forming inside of his cluttered mind but never escaping from his sealed lips.
Hope you guys enjoyed Chapter 1! I certainly liked writing it, even though it's currently 1 a.m here, plus I accidently closed out my tab so I had to start all over (Nearly died) but overall I like it. Not that great, but worth a shot!
For some reason I wanted to play with Baird's angry drunk side, and how dark he's kinda grown, which will be involved in the next chapter partially.
So that's it for now, I'd love to hear your feedback!
BrEeZy