DISCLAIMER: I owneth not.
I'm actually horrifically embarrassed about posting this... mostly because I'm really, really worried about them being terribly OOC. But I shall pluck up the courage so that my fellow minions can have something to read, even if said something is truly awful.
CapSnip if you tilt your head and squint at it, otherwise it's just brotherly.
(sometimes you just need a hug)
Snippy is having a bad day.
He can't sleep. Every time he closes his eyes he's assaulted by memories of Cancer – of searing pain in his chest and spreading throughout his whole body as he becomes part of the 'biomass'... of blood showering down on him as he lies tied to the chair while the wastelanders are killed around him... of running for his life as the creature chases him, terrified out of his wits.
He wakes up shaking and trying not to scream and once he thought he saw red eyes staring at him out of the darkness.
Snippy is tired.
It's far too much like his life before the fallout, when he was functioning on four hours of sleep a day and could barely keep his eyes open. Only before he was doing office work, and now he has to run around and climb things and avoid flying objects aimed at his head, courtesy of the Captain.
Snippy is having a bad day.
He got a grand total of 57 minutes of sleep last night. His eyes keep drifting shut only to snap back open. He feels so lethargic he can barely drag his feet along the ground, let alone lift his rifle.
And the Captain and Pilot seem intent on making his life misery.
Snippy ducked as another rock whistled by his head. He wondered if the two would even care if they ended up giving him a concussion. Snatching his rifle up, he fired and hit the next rock mid-air, shattering it into a cloud of dust.
Captain gave a loud whoop.
"Yes, Mr Snippy, that's the spirit!"
"Kill me now," Snippy muttered, then looked around for some wood to touch only to find none. Great. It would be just his luck if fate decided to take him up on the request.
"And now for round two!" Captain continued. "Pilot, release the opponent!"
Snippy just knew what was coming next – and he wasn't disappointed, as Photoshop was dragged forward by Pilot and let loose on Snippy.
"Go, go!" Pilot shouted, and Snippy swore loudly and ran towards the obstacle course – the only way out of the makeshift arena he was trapped in with Photoshop. He heard the beast roar and come after him.
Suddenly dizziness overcame him, colours flashing in his vision. He grimaced – this had happened before, back when ANNET was preventing him from sleeping.
Damn. I am not about to faint like some girl. Clinging to consciousness, Snippy stumbled.
Suddenly he just couldn't be bothered any more.
Raising his rifle, he blinked a few times to clear his vision and fired at Photoshop. The giant worm roared in anger and Pilot shouted in protest.
"Hey! Snippy! You jiggly slug cheater! Weapons aren't allowed!"
"I honestly don't care!" Snippy snapped back. He dropped the rifle on the ground and sat down. "I quit. Let the stupid worm eat me," he muttered a bit petulantly.
He regretted his impulsive actions when Photoshop roared again and thundered towards him, closing his eyes and flinching in anticipation. Wondering if the Captain and Pilot would stop the worm before it killed him or maimed him too horribly. Probably not.
Suddenly there was a strong grip around his arm and he was yanked sideways, his arm wrenching painfully. Opening his eyes, he was just in time to stumble into the Captain as he was pulled out of Photoshop's path.
"It is no fun if Mr Snippy doesn't play properly," the Captain said sternly, watching over Snippy's shoulder as Photoshop charged off into the wasteland, Pilot running after her and yelling to 'come back'.
"Have you ever considered that maybe I don't want to play?" Snippy demanded, yanking his arm from Captain's grasp and rubbing at it.
The Captain just stared impassively at him. "Minions must obey their leader at all times."
"Well right now I'm too tired to be an obedient minion." Snippy swayed where he stood, the colours returning with such force that they obscured his vision, Captain's face fading into a myriad of rainbow flashes.
What happened next, he wasn't quite sure, but the next thing he knew he was sitting on the ground, slumped against the Captain, his head down on the other's lap.
"...bwah," Snippy said intelligently.
The Captain's gloved hand descended on his head. "I think you fainted!" He announced cheerfully. "Perhaps my epic presence was too much for Snippy's fragile metabolism."
Snippy sat up quickly and regretted it as the world spun around him. He uttered a few choice words and the Captain shushed him frantically.
"No, Mr Snippy! We must remain at PG 13 only. Don't you know that there are sensitive viewers?"
"What are you talking about..." Snippy trailed off, reaching up to rub his eyes only to fail because of his goggles. "Uggggh..."
"No complaining, Snippy! A minion's life is not meant to be all fun and games!" The Captain bounced to his feet and stood expectantly. Snippy sighed and clambered upright, feeling even more drained, his entire body leaden.
"Let's go!" The Captain strode off and Snippy trailed after him, every step an unsteady torture.
They rejoined Pilot, who was standing at the base of a cliff, peering up at it and scratching his head. He turned as they approached and saluted.
"Captain! Photoshop has fled up this cliff. Since there is a lack of flying machine, would you like me to ascend it manually?"
"No, Snippy can do it!" Captain responded merrily.
Snippy groaned. "I don't suppose you'll consider letting me refuse," he murmured grumpily, and Captain shook his head.
"Not unless you want to face The Tea again."
Snippy bit his lip as he looked up at the cliff. "You know, most people frown upon threatening others into doing painful and dangerous things," he pointed out. There's no way I'm climbing that.
"Zee Captein is not 'most people'," the Captain said flippantly, waving a hand. "Now climb, Snippy! Climb like a bird!"
Whut.
Snippy did not want to do this. What he wanted was to sleep and not be terrorised by Cancer in his nightmares. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was climb this stupid bloody cliff and probably fall halfway and end up covered in bruises and laughed at by Pilot and Captain.
Making a half-hearted attempt, he approached the wall. There were more handholds than he'd expected and for a moment he entertained the notion that maybe this wouldn't be quite so bad.
He should have touched wood.
He was quite a way above the ground – still nowhere near halfway though – when his exhaustion again manifested itself in the form of burning muscles and dizziness. He didn't even register losing his grip before he was plummeting to the ground, landing heavily on his back and causing a shooting pain throughout his body.
Pilot giggled.
Snippy swore, because crap that hurt. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose, attempting to calm himself through the pain.
"Strike one!" Captain announced.
Snippy got to his feet slowly and painfully. He'd twisted his ankle some time during the landing, and it refused to support his full weight. He limped a few paces, rested a hand against the cliff wall, and decided that there was no way he was climbing up there again. No matter what hot beverages the Captain threatened him with.
He shook his head. "Not climbing up there again."
"The Tea is waiting for you, Mr Snippy," the Captain said ominously.
"I don't care..." Snippy trailed off as his voice started to crack. Emotion welled up in his throat, and he bit down on his bottom lip, appalled. No. What is this? Why am I getting so upset?
Biting his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, he turned away, wrapping his arms around himself and horrifically glad that his mask hid his face from the other two.
Captain came up next to him.
"Mr Snippy!" he ordered. "See if you can climb farther this time."
Snippy shook his head, his breath coming out far too shakily for his liking.
The Captain somehow managed to emanate "frown" without any facial expression. "Mr Snippy?"
Snippy ignored him. Blood roared in his ears. He wanted to sit down but couldn't quite get his legs to work.
The Captain's tone became gentler. "Snippy?" he asked. "What is wrong?"
Snippy just shook his head again, not trusting his voice. To his horror his eyes were blurred over with tears and there was a lump in his throat. He swallowed painfully. Calm down. Calm down. No need to get worked up over this...
"What's wrong with Snippy?" Pilot asked, sounding puzzled as he moved up on Snippy's other side. "Is he refusing to obey the Captain again?"
"I'm fine," Snippy said, feeling that he ought to stand up for himself, and immediately regretting the decision. His voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears – well, he was, but that was beside the point. Choking down a breath, he shoved Pilot aside roughly and strode away a few paces, trying to breathe calmly.
The Captain followed him, hovering at his shoulder again.
"Are you crying, Snippy?"
Snippy shook his head and hugged himself and turned his face away even though Captain couldn't see him under the mask. He waited for mockery, but it didn't come.
With unexpected gentleness, the Captain laid a hand on his shoulder.
"What's wrong, Snippy?"
Snippy couldn't answer. Words just refused to come out.
"Do you want to sit down?"
Snippy nodded and finally his legs decided to work. He practically fell over, his ankle protesting angrily. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he lowered his head and tried to breathe. A few tears spilled over his cheeks and he didn't even know why.
The hell. I'm a man. Men don't cry, dammit. I don't even know why I'm so upset...
The Captain sat next to him and gave Pilot a Look. Pilot got the hint and thankfully didn't ask any questions, instead heading off after Photoshop.
The Captain put an arm around Snippy and rubbed his back. "What's wrong?" he asked again.
Why are you being nice to me? Snippy wanted to ask, but couldn't say so many words, so he settled for choking out a rather croaky: "Tired..."
The Captain let out a huff of breath. "I didn't come down in the last shower, Snippy. It is more than just tiredness. Now tell your Captain! Maybe I can help."
You're the source of the problem, Snippy thought sourly. He sniffed again, feeling cold tears running down his cheeks under the mask – a rather unpleasant sensation.
"I'm just tired," he managed finally, and his voice was horribly shaky and tear-filled. It only got worse as he continued: "I can't sleep... I keep flashing back to Cancer... and I don't want to climb that stupid cliff and I hate Photoshop and I'm just sick of doing stupid things all the time-" he broke off as his voice threatened to crack again.
Stop being such a baby, Snippy, he thought, disgusted with himself. Then it dawned on him that he'd broken down in front of the Captain and mockery was sure to follow. He shifted away slightly, waiting for a laugh or a taunt.
The Captain was silent a moment.
"Mr Snippy is having a bad day," he said finally.
Snippy almost snorted. Oh, y'think! He sniffled and reached up to move his mask aside and wipe his nose. He realised that he was trembling but was unable to stop.
The Captain had his head tilted, watching Snippy thoughtfully. Suddenly he reached forward and wrapped his arms around the Sniper, pulling him into a hug.
Snippy stiffened, but after a rather awkward moment he relaxed into the embrace, letting his head fall forward onto Captain's shoulder. The Captain was warm and solid and probably dangerously radioactive, and he was all Snippy had left now.
He wasn't sure how long they sat there, until finally Snippy shifted and the Captain let go of him.
"Feeling better?" Captain asked, and Snippy nodded. The embarrassment returned full force and he turned away, blushing under his mask.
"Sorry about that," he said gruffly, glad to find that his voice was back to normal.
The Captain flapped a hand. "It is of no consequence," he declared. "Zee Captein must keep his minions in tip-top shape!"
A sudden yawn overcame Snippy, noisy through his respirator.
"Methinks it is nap time," Captain proclaimed. "Let us return to the base." 'The base' being their current residence, a ramshackle ruin with two walls and half a ceiling, furnished with makeshift hammocks.
Snippy nodded and follow the Captain back, his feet dragging, his emotional outburst having exhausted him further. When they reached the base he paused, recalling last night's horrid nightmares. Though his eyelids were practically drooping shut, he feared the horrors that sleep might bring.
The Captain seemed to catch on quickly enough, for he sat down on the torn settee and patted the space next to him. Snippy cautiously sat, suspicious as to when this spate of niceness would end.
"Rest, Mr Snippy," Captain ordered, slinging one arm around Snippy's shoulders and pulling him down until Snippy's head rested on his shoulder.
Snippy wanted to protest but his eyes were already drifting shut again and before he knew it, he was asleep.
Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Be brutally honest with me, folks. I can take it.
...I admit it. I have documents full of Snippy whump on my laptop. If this archive is still dismal and almost-empty in a week or so, I'll post it. Let's try beat Scandinavia and the World, eh peeps?