Well, its not that great or anything, but here. I did this I don't know why. It pretty bad in my opinion, but whatever. Enjoy I guess. leave a review, comment, whatever.


Never Forget

Author: Nine

Location: Unknown

Date: November 16, 1980

A tall, lean man stood in a field dotted throughout with trees. Early morning light streamed through the branches, dappling the ground and the man with orange light, creating an almost stained-glass effect. A cool wind rustled the branches gently, creating a quiet, peaceful atmosphere. The only sound was the faint chirping of the early rising birds.

The man crouched in front of a small headstone, all alone in the field. "Ya know...you always said I was lazy...ya said it was physically impossible to get up early. Well, here I am now. It's 6:00am, and I'm here. I got up early, just for you. It's been 15 years. I bet if you were here you would tell me I'm being stupid. Doesn't matter, I suppose. It's not like you're here now." the man said, sitting cross legged in front of the stone. As he closed his eyes for a moment, memories of a war 15 years ago overtook him.

"Take him down, take him down!" shouted a loud voice, sounding panicked. There was an explosion, then silence. "Come on, respond!" hissed the man through his earpiece. Then he heard an all too familiar voice. "I am so sorry. He is dead." He slowly took out his earpiece and leaned back against the wall of the building he was in. So few were left now. Only 5 of them, not including him. It had started with many more, but day by day they died off, killed, slaughtered, murdered. Some died from their wounds, other were fortunate enough to die quickly. The rest were left in a hopeless fight.

Of course, just about everyone knew it was a losing fight. They had so few left, it wouldn't be more than a few days before the enemy overran them. They still had an experienced medic, thankfully, but still, their death was imminent, he was sure. There was no way to wipe out the enemy, no way they could win. He was almost beginning to wish he had not survived this long. What was the point in living when all you saw was your friends and teammates dying?

"Hey idiot." came a familiar voice. He snorted and shook his head, recognizing the voice of one of his other teammates. "What do ya' want?" he asked. "I'm going in." replied the voice. He nearly dropped his rifle he was so shocked. "Are ya' insane? You'll get slaughtered!" he protested. "Its too late, I'm already in." came the response. He sagged back against the wall, feeling defeated. His closest friend was going on a suicide mission. And there was nothing he could do. There was a long period of silence, only interrupted by the occasional sound of far-off staccato gunfire from outside. A voice, quiet and soft, came over the earpiece. "On the off chance I escape the complex alive, you have to get out, understand? If you can escape the area, you'll be safe. The blast won't kill you." said his friend had said. "I can't leave ya' to die, period." he snapped fiercely. He waited for a response, but there was nothing but static. He paused for a moment, thinking. At the very least, he was getting everyone else out. Speaking into the earpiece, he said "Listen everyone. We got are best man going in. He needs us to clear out ta' the south bunka'. Now."
"If you say so." came their medics reply. He could hear the medic calling out to everyone and moving them. Peering out from his perch, he spotted them heading to the bunker. Good. At least they might survive. he let out a sad sigh and leaned back. There wasn't much to do for now except wait.

As he lay there, he could help but realize how much everything had changed so quickly. it was just 6 months ago. 6 months was all it took to turn the place into a wasteland. 6 months for their lives to change into a living hell. The old bases were destroyed, and everything inside them as well. The area was pockmarked with craters from explosions, and the enemies bodies were scattered here and there. Everything was so different now. Even his team had changed so much. He wished things could just go back how they used to be...

"I'm making a run for it!" shouted the voice over the earpiece. Without a second thought, he leaped out the window of his perch, landing on his feet on the ground below. Racing across the battleground straight for The Complex. He wasn't about to let his friend die. Far up ahead, he saw him, running. But he seemed to be hurt. 'Oh no...' he thought. He raced that last several yards over to him. "What are you doing!? You fool, I told you to get out."
"'M not gonna jus leave you behind! Just shut in an' work with me! We have to make it to the bunker." he had yelled. He draped his friends arms of his shoulder, and they ran together, towards the bunker. He had made it so close, he could see the panicked and worried faces of his teammates. There was their medic, their demolitions expert, their engineer. And then the complex exploded in a massive fireball.

He had never even felt the blast, and never even remembered what had happened. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he figured it wasn't long, because he was still in the same place. Slowly, he opened his eyes, struggling to focus. The world around him slowly became clearer, and he became aware of someone laying on top of. Gently, he eased the body off and got to his hands and knees, groaning from the pain. It wasn't until he looked over to see who had been on top of him that he realized who it was.

Spy had saved him. He had shielded him from the worst of the explosion. Gently, he began trying to pick him up, to get him to Medic. He was stopped by a moan of protest by his friend. "Stop...its over." his friend said weakly. He sank to his knees, still holding him. "Don't ya' say that, its never over. Ya' can't give up." His friend shook his head. "Just...listen. I'm not going to make it you Lawrence you idiot. You should have run will you had the chance." hissed Spy "I wasn't gonna jus' leave ya', ya bloody frenchmen." replied Lawrence, almost smiling. For the first time in months, he felt like his old self. He didn't have to put on a show anymore, or act a certain way. Now, it was just him and Spy. And for the first time since he had met Spy, he felt genuine fear for Spy's life. "Come on...I'm not gonna let ya' die ya' wanka. We're gonna get you ta the medic an' he gonna fix you up."

"Lawrence...its over." gasped Spy, breathing hard. "Don't you dare say that" growled Lawrence, desperately pressing his hands against the wounds, trying to staunch the blood as it seeped between his fingers. "Hang in ther-" Lawrence was cut off by Spy. "You Australians...just don't know when to give up.." he gasped, struggling to breath. But deep down, he was scared. he could never admit it, but he was scared of dying. Of dying alone, and being forgotten. it was the only thing he really feared, and for the first time in years, it was a possibility. But his pride would never allow him to admit how much he wanted Lawrence to just stay with him.
Lawrence wrapped his arms around Spy. "I'm not gonna jus' walk away from ya. Ya' won't admit it, but yer scared, aren't you? Scared of dyin' alone." Lawrence shook his head and looked up, at the battlefield around them. It seemed that it was finally done. After all these months it was over. he looked down, looking into Spy's eyes. he could see it. He could see how scared the Spy was. He hated that. Spook was supposed to be strong and cold. Distant. "I'm not leaving you." he said quietly. And even though Spy didn't say anything, he knew that he was happy. "Alexandre." came the quiet voice. Lawrence realized Spy had spoken. "Alexandre. My name is Alexandre." he said.
"Hmph. Nice to meet you Alexandre." said Lawrence with a weak smile.
"Yeah, you too, Lawrence." replied Spy. Lawrence smiled. "You used my real name, instead of Sniper, or jus' Aussie. Or idiot." he added.
"I would never told you, but...I liked the name." whispered Spy quietly. Lawrence nodded, not saying anything. "If...if it my last chance" said Spy, struggling to speak.
"Save your breath." Pleaded Lawrence, shushing him.
Spy shook his head and pushed Lawrence's hand away. "No...I...I need to say this. Thank you..."
"Fer what?" asked Lawrence, eyes beginning to cloud with sadness.
"For... being there..." replied Spy weakly. Lawrence gave a sort of chuckle, drawing Spy close.
"That's what friends do." he said. "That's what friends do." he repeated, his voice barely audible.

After that moment, no words were spoken. They sat there, together, in the gathering dusk, the setting sun outlining their silhouette. After all their time together, the words no longer needed to be said out loud. The gunshots and explosions were long since gone, leaving just silence. But they didn't need words. All they needed was each other.

Lawrence sighed as he stood up from in front of the headstone. He still remembered that day, as if it was yesterday. 15 years ago. The day he had lost everything. Reflecting back on the day, he remembered the words Medic had said to him, as they parted ways for the final time.

"Looks like ve von zhis." murmured Medic, as they stood by Lawrence's van.
"Yeah...I s'ppose so." he muttered, shoulders sagging. For several seconds, he had done nothing but stand there with Medic. He knew that both of them were thinking of the end of the war. Finally, Lawrence looked up at Medic. "We may have won, but what's so great 'bout winning when you lose everything you care about?"
Medic nodded, smiling sadly. The two embraced for the final time before they parted ways.

Not wanting to relive anymore memories, Lawrence turned away. He began to walk, but turned back one last time to look at the headstone. It read only a few simple words.

Here lies Alexandre Felix Darnay,

whom will never be forgotten.

1927-1975

Never Forget