Just a quick, random one-shot. Could really be anybody's POV.

Feedback is appreciated, but flames will be sent to the deepest pits of Hell to be tormented by whiny protest songs from the 60s.


It's strange how something completely random can bring about the dawning of realization. I was walking through the mall on shoreleave the other day and I noticed two coworkers having a superficial fight. Not so out of the ordinary, right?

But that got me thinking about my job, my coworkers.

Our personalities vary so much that of course we clash. In fact, Shipwreck annoys the crap out of me on a near daily basis. Hell, it's not out of the ordinary to see two Joes having a fight come to blows in the sparring ring followed by a visit to Lifeline and, probably, a good week or two of KP duty. Our fights are probably what some people would think of as extraordinarly violent. Personally, I think it's healthy to just get it out of your system, but I digress.

As I was saying, we fight. A lot. But, that being said, I can't think of a single one I would say that I hate. Annoying, sure, but hate?

This is where our job differentiates from the normal. We have petty squabbles, full-out knockdown fights, yes, but we are bonded on a higher level. It's like siblings who can't stand one another, yet each would jump in front of a bullet for the other.

That's what we are: brothers and sisters in arms.

We all get along on a higher level, united by a common goal—protecting our friends, our loved ones, even protecting total strangers and putting our lives on the line for them.

I've heard people say that a life like ours, a life where nobody but you and a handful of superior officers knows what you did with your day, where you can't come home and talk to your friends and loved ones about your day, would make you hardened and antisocial.

But it's quite the opposite.

At the end of the day, it's the another Joe who sees you brooding in the corner and brings you a beer, then throws you into a poker game. A Joe who has been where you've been, maybe not exactly, but enough to know how you feel, and offers support.

No other job in the world would have the kind of comraderie we have, the solid foundation of brotherly and sisterly love. If we had regular jobs, I probably would have said that I hate Shipwreck, but here? Here I know he's a good man who would look out for me if I ever needed it. He would have my back no matter what. That's what brothers are for.

In my job I lie, I cheat, I steal, and, yes, I even kill. But someone has to. Somebody has to do the dirty work so people like those bickering coworkers can live their day-to-day lives without knowing how it feels to take a life or to have someone trying to take theirs.

This is what I do, this is who I am.

And I can't imagine a better job.