A/N: Hmm, this may turn out to be a new series in the making... I get the feeling it'll be longer than just a two shot.
"So that's it, then? Just like that?"
Piers was anything but happy, smooth features curved into an angry scowl directed toward his Captain, who calmly sat in place behind his desk.
"I can't keep doing this forever, Piers. It's about time I stepped down. You'll do fine in my-"
Deft hands slammed over the top of the desk, jarring the items that were scattered across the surface. "How can you be so calm about this?! What about us? You know things won't be the same if you do this! We'll barely ever even see each other-"
"It's already done." Blunt, firm. The comment was enough to silence Piers momentarily, who stared at his Captain with betrayal and disbelief in those sharp hazel eyes. "It's been a long time coming, and things are different now. You don't need me here, Piers."
Piers tensed his jaw, fingers curled themselves over the desk under them to fold inward where they balled into fists that had his knuckles turning white underneath the fabric of his gloves. "You could have talked to me, Chris." The tone lowered just above a whisper, hitching just the slightest around the edges.
Chris actually winced at the sound, at the pain laced behind it. He already had his mind made up however, and it was all for the best. He still hated having to do that to Piers, hated hurting the younger man. But Piers had an entire life ahead of him, he could have so much more than what Chris could offer and his mind set would make him an excellent Captain in his place.
"Fine," Another crack outlined the singular word, and a similar shaped one appeared along the Captain's heart upon hearing it. "Fine..." Piers repeated, and pushed himself away from the desk with slow steps backward. "Have it your way. Now, the next time we get to see each other will probably be when one of us is dead. I hope you're satisfied with that... Enjoy your new life, Chris."
"Piers, wait! Don't-"
But it was too late. The sniper had already turned on his heel and left, but not before he slammed the door on his way out.
Chris sighed, and with elbows firmly planted on the desk, he placed his head atop them. It had to be done, it had to be done. For both of them. "I'm sorry, Piers." He said to the air, as though the ace could hear. Not that it would make a difference.
When Piers had left, he stormed for the locker room with hard steps. With riggings, vest, and pouches all pulled loose and put away, he grabbed his jacket and was well on his way toward the exit.
He didn't know how Chris could do it, how he could approach the matter so casually and sit there like everything was perfectly fine when it was anything but.
The moment the sniper had seated himself within his car, he pounded an angry fist over the wheel. "Damn it, Chris!" He seethed, just before he started the vehicle and pulled away without another glance back. He was angry that Chris never spoke to him about it before things were set in motion, and the way the older man had approached the subject made things even worse. Yet Piers was also upset with himself, for not turning back around and fighting to keep what was his.
He wondered if it would it have made a difference as he drove through the streets. Chris already had his mind set on the matter. Maybe it was better to stay angry and to blame the man who was his Captain for everything he just destroyed... If only to prevent the heartbreak from seeping in.
When Piers had finally reached his home, he left the car and trudged up the short walkway to step inside. He just wanted to forget the night ever happened. The jacket that he slipped off from over his shoulders was put in its proper place within the closet not far off from the main door.
Maybe Chris was right. Maybe things were better that way.
No! No, Piers couldn't accept that. His mind was in a conflict and he wasn't sure if the matter could even be approached again... Damn it all, he'd have to talk to Chris. Sort things out, if it was even possible.
The thoughts had him distracted as he sauntered toward the bedroom without any attempt to turn on the lights upon entering. Sleep sounded like a good idea, if only to be used as a temporary getaway from what had just happened.
Piers didn't see the looming figure that hovered in a corner, nor did he have the time to react when it was on him in the blink of an eye. Hands grasped a hold of the ace, only to throw him all the way across the span of the room with an inhuman strength. The collision with the shelf aligning the far wall had the room spinning as Piers sunk to the floor, broken bits of wood falling down with him. He groaned, hand instinctively reaching for his sidearm that he carried for emergencies like this, only to have the figure back on him before his fingers could even wrap over the metal. Damn, they were fast. A hand over his wrist kept him from making the attempt again as it squeezed, then twisted with an audible snap that had Piers screaming.
"Now, now. You wouldn't want me to break the other one." A voice from the dark spoke, cool and overpowering all the same. Gloved fingers made their way to his throat where they hovered just over the skin, and Piers could almost feel a smirk roll off of his attacker as his good hand clutched at the limb in hopes of prying it away before it could tighten. But they were strong, their grip unwavering. He heard a chuckle, inches from his face before those fingers closed down around his neck, cutting away the oxygen from his lungs.
"So this is the young protege... My, you've gotten yourself in quite a predicament." The voice taunted the ace. Piers was lifted off the floor by his throat, feet left to dangle as he was held in the air by a single arm. His good hand formed into a fist to pound away at the limb, but again it kept its iron hold. With limited time left, Piers did the next best thing and redirected his efforts to the assailant's face where his knuckles smashed against something that was knocked loose by the blow and skittered off to the side.
Glasses?
"That wasn't very nice," The man chided, before he dropped the ace to the floor where he collapsed to his knees, instinctively grabbing for his throat as his lungs flooded with air. "What-" Piers coughed, breath ragged as it tried to steady itself. "What are you? Who-" A backhand to the face cut off his question and knocked him over onto his side.
There was a soft hum as the figure crouched down next to the sniper, "Consider me an old acquaintance of your self righteous Captain." Piers looked up at that, and hazel eyes widened the moment they landed on fiery orange suns that flared menacingly within the confines of shadows. "And you," Those strong fingers reached towards him again, cupping a tight hold over his chin. "Are just the pawn I need to bring him to me."
The reply to that was a gunshot, followed by a second and then a third until the clip ran empty, all from the sidearm that Piers had managed to pull free. Miraculously, each of the bullets managed to hit.
Yet, in the darkness, the tyrant smiled.
The gun clattered to the ground, "You-" A sudden sharp kick to the stomach sent the ace rolling across the floor, hissing at the loud crack that coincided with the blow, which he was sure were his ribs snapping under the pressure. "So much alike," Footsteps came closer, slow in the making. "Defiant." There was sound of straining leather as the shadow bent down to loom over him with a hand outstretched, fingers once again found their way around the sniper's neck where it was used to pull Piers back to his feet. One hard motion and the young ace was slammed against the wall behind him. "But such efforts are futile." This time, the grip didn't relent until hazel eyes fluttered closed into the blackness behind his lids.
The next morning, Piers was no where to be found at work, with no phone call in to explain his absence from the base. Chris had expected him to be upset, to keep his distance after what they'd discussed... But Piers never missed a day, not without a damn good reason and sure as hell not without calling in. To say the Captain was frustrated was putting things mildly. He already tried to get a hold of the sniper by calling his phone, which he'd done four times prior to the fifth he was attempting now.
Still nothing. No answer, only voicemail.
"Damn it Piers, pick up. Where the hell are you?" He spoke to the machine with a heavy sigh before he hung up. Chris moved his hands to rub at his temples as though he could will away the headache, but a knock at the door had him straighten up, "Come in," He gave the okay, and not a second later Jill slipped into the room.
"Chris."
The Captain didn't like the look she gave him. His brow furrowed. "What is it?"
Jill moved to stand in front of the desk, shifting uneasily. "So you really don't know. I wasn't sure if-"
"Jill..." Chris cut her off, brown eyes watched her suspiciously. "What are you talking about? What don't I know?"
The brunette sighed, "It's about Piers, Chris." The Captain stiffened at that. "There were reports last night from his neighbors. Several them called in about hearing gunshots from that house, and now today he turns up missing without a call of absence. I think something may have hap-"
Chris was already on his feet and storming toward the door.
Jill had to turn and follow the moment he was on the move. "Chris! Wait! What are-" She rounded the corner out of the room, but he was practically sprinting his way down the hall with a determination in his eyes. Jill sighed.
There was no stopping him.
