So yeah, how are you good folks of fanfiction. I'm a newbie here so if anyone has any suggestion or critics on how I could improve, it would be very helpful. Anyway, this is a oneshot, my first one actually, but I am looking actually for a series of something to make a full story (any suggestion on books, tv shows, movies, anime or games are welcome, drop in an idea of what you would like to see too if you want). I ain't expecting any reviews really but they would be nice, hope to seeya around
DyingOfTheLight
Disclaimer: CoD isn't mine
Was it all really worth it?
A question he had been repeating inside his mind in the last days, weeks, months…
Joining the marines seemed like the best idea in the world back then, to fight for his country along his best friend, to fight for liberty with his brother in arms, to be an action hero like in those videogames he used to play with Will all afternoon when they were kids. They were just looking for a beacon to follow, a purpose to guide their lives. If you asked the Jack Mitchell from a year ago if he feared the fact that he could get killed in the middle of combat, he probably would've responded with some cocky answer bragging about how wouldn't be killed by a simple grunt.
But things change
Two boys entered Seul that day, following their dreams, but only a man came out. A broken man, beaten and burned, he let Will die alone that day, he should have been with him, burned with him, but instead he just allowed Will to toss him off the launcher, he allowed himself to watch his friend rise to his death, he allowed Cormack to rip his arm off and drag him off to safety while pieces of Will still rained down on them. The brave died that day, only the cowards like him survived.
Was it all really worth it?
Will died a hero, yes.
But did it make a difference?
There will be always new wars.
There will be always young dead boys to call heroes.
And there will be always cowards like him left behind.
The arm is only a remainder of that; they tell him that it's better, stronger, faster. But he doesn't want a better arm, he wants his old arm back, the one made of flesh and bone, he wants to go back in time and slap some sense into his old self, tell him to go to college, get a boring job and drag Will with him. But he can't. And the arm is a constant reminder of how much things have actually changed, how much he has actually failed, how much he actually had to pay.
Was it all really worth it?
This things crash into his mind constantly, no room for other thoughts, no room to move one, no room for a real recovery. His spirit was left in Seul, along with his arm; his will is now as real as his new arm. The arm… It feels good to have one again, but he feels like he shouldn't, he feels like he doesn't deserve it and he probably doesn't. All these things keep crashing into his mind as the rain crashes against his synthetic arm, the drops crashing against the gun its holding. The weapon shines like obsidian, its pitch black design contrasting against the red and white shining letters on it that spell one simple name: ATLAS. Mitchell spins it, once, twice, as a lightning cuts through the sky and a thunder booms in the distance, examining it as much as he examines his new arm. A new sense of power rising up inside his gut as he feels a gun in his hands again, to hold the power to end a life once more.
Jonathan Irons gave him this new arm, this new chance, a chance to honor Will and he will take it. He can't change his past, but right now, he can decide what will happen next and he plans to do it. Joker talks to him, he nods and deep inside his gut he knows that he's ready. To fight until he is dead, to fight until his debt is paid, this is all that remains; this is all he can do…
But one thing still bugs him.
When it's all done.
When the debt is finally paid.
When nothing else is left standing.
Will it all be worth it?