I don't own The Brave or The Sound of Silence by Disturbed! My native language is Dutch and I'm dyslectic so sorry for any mistakes. This is my first attempt for a The Brave fanfic. I hope I did it some justice ^^
The Sound of Silence
Her feet dragged over the floor, tracing lines in the dust that had set on it. She was unable to lift them and walk. All she had to keep upright were the rough hands around her arms, adding more bruises. The rustling of keys. A door opening. Then she was met with the cold hard floor again. She rested her painful head on it. As the door closed, she was surrounded by darkness and she sighed. Darkness was welcome like an old friend. For a moment she was safe. A moment to rest her eyes and let the darkness take over even more. It allowed her mind to wander to dangerous places. Moments of happiness. Of no pain to be felt. In the silence she could dream and forget about the pain. Those images gave her some strength to hold on. To bear the moments when the silence disappeared and the pain multiplied. Those images gave her the hope that they were coming.
He walked the empty streets of Teheran. He was aware of the danger he put himself in by being outside, but he didn't care. He needed to be out here. The lights from the houses pushed the darkness from the streets and the muffled sounds from inside touched the silence of the streets. He used to find comfort in that, but no longer. Now silence was all he longed for. . The safe house was filled with sounds. Discussions. Arguments. Pacing. They were all trying to find her, but hadn't had much luck yet. The hours passed quickly and he knew their chances, her chances, were becoming smaller. The sounds in the house made him too aware of that statistic. That was why he searched for the silence. Why he walked around the streets of Teheran. To keep her from his mind and refocus himself.
She was dragged past the many rooms in the building. Once again to the room. She knew what was coming. She knew the questions that would be asked. The pain that was coming. As she was dragged, the silence hit her. She was dragged past many faces. Bruised and battered, like she assumed she looked. No one dared to speak, but their injuries said enough. The sadness in their eyes screamed louder than anything with a voice. She took a deep breath as she was moved into the room. She knew what was coming and it made her long for the darkness.
They had found her. When those words were spoken, the team took breaths of relief were taken. They were closing in. They were going to find her. Together they moved through the building, like they were trained to do. Enemies were shot down. The team moved on without second glances. They moved through the corridors, clearing rooms one by one. The rooms were filled with people. His eyes flashed over their bodies, which were covered in evidence of torture. That told him more than the words they could not speak. Thoughts tried to flush his mind. The urge to find her grew within him. But he pushed it all away. He needed the silence. His thoughts did not come through. None dared to disturb the sound of silence that he needed to refocus.
Her breathing had become labored. Time had become lost in this prison of her. Inside, the silence was growing. Sounds did not reach her any more. She just lay on the floor, with her eyes closed as the silence grew. The pain was becoming too much. She was reaching the point she did not know she had. Realization set in. The door was opened again and the familiar footsteps entered her silence. The only sound that could. She opened her eyes and looked at the man standing over her. And she knew. From now on there would be no more improvising. It would be just silence from now on.
He did not recognize the woman he was holding in his arms. Her face was battered and bruised. Blood soaked his pants as he held her. Her brown eyes stared at him but they didn't see. The emptiness in them pierced his soul. He put his hand against her cheek. The sounds around him drifted away.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered and his voice broke. Tears started to fall. His eyes fell on the small hole in her forehead. A hole that had ended it all. 'I'm so sorry.' All of this was his fault. He'd sent her in. He'd told her to improvise. He was the team leader. She would have had longer had they not breached. They had captured the man who'd killed her. Who had laid his hands on her and made her endure all this pain. He had ended it. One close range shot to the head and they were too late.
He held her closer to him and whispered his apologies over and over again, but none of those words reached her. They echoed in the wells of silence. She lay lifeless in his arms and all he could do was hold her.
This was the hardest moment. All throughout the flight he'd prepared himself, but when he stood, he knew he wasn't ready. Nothing was able to prepare him for this. This was not supposed to happen. As they walked out of the plane, they were met by director Campbell, Hannah and Noah. The sadness on their faces hit him. Outside the plane they formed a line across from them. A car drove into the hangar. He shot a glance at it as a woman came out. Her features looked familiar. They warmed something inside of him and at the same time it made the pain and sadness grow. Tears streamed down her face and as soon as she saw the team, she gasped. Realization set in. He turned his head to the plane, from where the coffin was carried. His right hand rose to his head, to give her a last salute. Her mother carefully placed her hand on the coffin when it was put in front of her. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. He could see her whispering a prayer to the coffin. She bowed down and gave the coffin a kiss. A kiss of a last goodbye. Tears formed in his own eyes as well and blurred the vision of her mother crying. They had been too late and now there was only the sound of silence.
The End.
A big thank you to my sister for beta-ing the one-shot!