A/n: So, this is totally spur of the moment…bare with me here, people.
Set: Back when Mac was in Desert Storm…
Kinda a pre-series CSI:NY x-over with pre-series NCIS
A Tribute to…
The Fallen Marine
Pieces of hot metal whizzed past his ear, but Mac didn't care. What was on his mind right now was getting his ass out of this hell hole. There were wounded, dying, and dead up to his ears, and this was not going remotely well. Looking to his right, he saw LJ trying to stop a twenty something from bleeding to death. That wasn't going well either. These soldiers were too young. Most had a life back home they would never be able to go back to. They either didn't make it back alive, or they came home a different person; they came home a person who saw troubles far beyond their years.
"Taylor, come help me with this! Taylor!" He heard LJ yelling at him over the multitude of blasts and shots. "I can't do this by myself! I need help, and Calpine's about ready to piss himself."
He changed his line of sight to the eighteen year old who was clutching LJ's sniper rifle in a death grip. Mac crawled over to his buddy and the bleeding, twenty something kid just as chunks of hard ground flew in ever direction not more that fifty feet away from them.
"If you get me blown up, Taylor, I'm coming back to haunt your sorry ass."
Mac cracked an appropriately sized smile for this situation. Actually, he was pretty sure LJ wasn't joking. He knew that he wanted to get back to his wife, Shannon, and daughter, Kelly. He, also, had someone to get back to. Not even ten minutes after proposing to Claire, did he get the call telling him he was to be deployed to Operation Desert Storm in less than a month. Life sucked. It wasn't that he hated being deployed so much as the deployment couldn't have been at worse possible time.
The twenty something, Alex Sanderson, as his dog tags read, began coughing. Blood from the back of his throat speckled the two older marines with vermillion drops. LJ could tell the kid was trying to apologize, but couldn't get the words out without coughing up more blood. Mac, who was now applying pressure to the shrapnel wound, looked at LJ with a knowing look. Sanderson wasn't going to be making it home.
"Sergeant Gibbs, Sergeant Taylor," Alex no longer cared about the blood flecks. "when…you guys get back to America…can…can one of you travel out to Grand Rapids, Michigan? My girl…girlfriend lives out there." The spots of blood now covered his own face, and a scarlet stream came from the corner of his mouth. "Can you g…give her my dog tags?"
"We don't know where she lives, Marine."
"My…my bunk…underneath the mattress…there's a picture…her address is on the back." Another fit of coughs consumed him, and then he was still.
Mac pulled his hands back, and wiped the blood on his pants while LJ removed the tags. More chunks of hard earth showered them.
"Calpine, be ready to run, us three are heading back."
The three of them sprinted to the nearest form of shelter, a mound of dirt from a recent blast. Mac began to count…
One heartbeat…two heartbeats…three heartbeats…run!
They made another dash to another mound of dirt. As they paused there, LJ ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, loosening crumbs of dirt in the process.
One heartbeat…two heartbeats…three heartbeats…run!
Nothing mattered but Shannon, Kelly, Claire, and the promise to Sanderson. Pieces of hot metal whizzed past his ear, but Mac didn't care. What was on his mind right now was getting his ass out of this hell hole.
FINITO!
A/n: Ok, so I kinda lied. I've actually had the idea to write a series of tributes to each of the characters, but I didn't write this out first like I usually do…so that's what I meant by 'spur of the moment.'
Stella's Tribute is next.