I got the idea for this while reading another fic and I regret it.
Also, backstory: They're in a war of some sort, you can say whatever, and Church is a member of PFL, while Tucker is just a normal Captain. You can imagine them as being in a relationship if you'd like, but I left that up to the reader.

EDIT: fixed the limb situation

Church was dying. Church was dying, and all Tucker could do was wait until he gave up his ghost. There was a medic, a man they knew only as Doc, who'd said there was nothing he could do except try and make his last moments a little easier.

The tent was filled with the moans of wounded soldiers being tended to, but none of them were as bad as his friend. They'd been hit by a rogue tank's autofire; Church leading a group of young soldiers in training exercises in the downtime. He was hit directly by the blast, while the others were lucky to only receive the splash damage.

It was a miracle that the Freelancer had survived so long; he'd lost both legs and his left arm and had taken a considerable amount of shrapnel to the torso- not to mention being thrown like a ragdoll by the blast.

Doc said they may have been able to save him if they'd gotten to him earlier, if Church hadn't tried to crawl back to camp, driving the shrapnel further into his lungs.

But Church was a stubborn little shit; he wouldn't have waited for rescue, but he also wouldn't die so easily.

"Tucker... Tucker!" Church suddenly gasped, scaring the shit out of the captain.

"Church! It's going to be okay, man; you just need to rest- you'll just hurt worse if you talk."

"No... I-I'm no- I'm not gonna make it," the Freelancer whispered, grabbing onto the sleeve of his uniform. "Tucker, there's something I need to tell you."

Tears stung at the edges of his eyes as he took Church's hand in his. When had it gotten so clammy, his grip so weak? "What is it?"

Church smiled, his eyes staring blankly at Tucker. "I just want you to know... I always hated you. I always hated you the most."

A tear fell down his cheek, despite his best efforts. "Yeah, I know you did. Now hurry up and die, you prick," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Yeah... okay..."

Tucker could feel the life leave his best friend, his hand limp in his own. He stood up slowly, lip quivering, and left.

He didn't want to remember Church like this.