title: KIA
by: jane, the frog on the wall
rating: PG-13 - nothing you wouldn't see on the show, anyway
spoilers: "and jesus brought a casserole"
disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a little girl. And she was verry little, and didn't know much about copyrights or complicated things with big words. And one day this little girl wrote a fic, using somebody else's characters, which was very illegal. But then she told people they weren't hers, in a disclaimer, and it was a little less illegal. Quotes are from the episode.
notes: Syl-POV fic, 'cause I'm gonna marry her, and her pain should be explored. Have fun.
feedback: send all questions, comments, death threats and everything else concerning the fic should be sent to Happygirl_com@yahoo.com
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"KIA."
Killed In Action. That's all he told us - all he gave us - before he left. The last we heard of Max - big sister Max, who gave me my name and used to hold my hand when the seizures got too painful to hide - was K.I.A. In that moment, that fraction of a millisecond where my brain processed the news, a thousand crazy thoughts ran through my head. Maybe - maybe we could go back and get Zack, and make them pay. Maybe we could get her back...do really good CPR, find a band-aid. Maybe there was something we could do...maybe if I screamed loud enough, it wouldn't have happened. I'd wake up and it'd all be a bad dream, all of it. Max wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead, she was Max. Strong Max, brave Max, big sister Max, Max who helped organize the escape. Any second, she was going to come running through the trees, laughing and proud and alive. But she didn't. She didn't come.
After I processed it, after I realized that she was dead and gone and never coming back, I heard the shouting. Somebody - something - screaming "No" and "No" over and over again, like maybe if the words were said loud enough, they'd be right. It was exactly everything I felt, what I wanted to do. I wanted to find that person and join them in their screaming...It took me a full five minutes to realize the sounds were coming from me.
Krit...Krit was there with me, that private place of grief that only we could find, 'cause she wasn't anybody else's big sister. I remember, back at Manticore, that we'd sometimes make up stories about our families, and why we ended up at Manticore. Everybody always used to say that Max and Krit looked so alike, they were brother and sister for real. I don't remember what he did after Lydecker left us by the van. I don't remember anything really, after I shut myself up...because then it's blank for a while. I don't remember stumbling into the trees, or having Krit follow me, but it must have happened because the next thing I remember is leaning against a tree, and looking down at my dinner, with Krit holding my hair back. I remember the pizza...
/: "Chow down, my grunts" :/
...and the Coke, and the apple I snagged on my way out, just to show everybody how tough I was. And God, was I tough. Psyched about finally doing some damage the way I used to love, with weapons and my family covering my back, marching for the flag that used to be our target. Our objective in the drills Lydecker used to train us for. Except this time, we were going to blow it up.
I kind of...retreated, then. After I'd wiped my mouth, and we were back by the van, and Lydecker hauled Logan onto the floor. I think...I think I was the one who screamed and threw the grenade, 'cause I don't think Krit had any. It was a little satisfying, though, to know that at least three of the X-7s that killed Max were dead themselves. That scared 'Deck a little. Served him right, though, the son of a bitch.
We had to knock Logan out three times on the way back to Seattle. The first time, we weren't ready for it. I was almost asleep, curled up on a spare patch of floor, when he started screaming and crawling towards the back doors - I think if Krit hadn't caught him, he would've jumped.
That's when I cried again, for real. Just...quiet tears on the floor of our van, so Lydecker wouldn't see me. The one moment that I'll remember from the attack - the moment I'll remember for the rest of my short life - was on that ride home. I remember crawling over to Krit, who was sitting with his back against the side of the van, staring at the wrench he'd used to knock Logan out. Wondering how it got there, maybe. I put my head on his knees and shuddered, pulling my knees up to my chest. And...he put his hand on my forehead, just above my hairline, and told me, "Shhh, little sister. Everything's gonna be okay. It's gonna be alright, I promise."
I believed him. I don't really remember much after that...I started babbling about how he didn't know that everything was gonna be alright, and maybe Max was alive, and when we got back I was gonna get an apartment in Seattle...everything and anything, just to hold off the silence. Anything to stop the silence.
I remember being at Manticore...how we used to call each other "big brother" and "big sister," 'cause...some of us were bigger than others. I was always "little sister," 'cause I was the smallest, 'cept for Eva. But she's dead now, isn't she? We're all dying. Lydecker's dream was to send thirty perfect soldiers into battle and lose none - but how many are dead? Five? Ten?
When you hear stories about all the wars that happened in the past - World War One, World War Two, Vietnam - you always hear about the soldiers. The people who died like heroes, the people who died like cowards, the soldiers who weren't special enough to do anything but add to the body count. Nobody ever tells stories about the people who had to dig their graves. The survivors are the real soldiers. War stories...they're not about the dead ones. They're about the soldiers who weren't lucky enough to be KIA. Like Max.
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[End]
by: jane, the frog on the wall
rating: PG-13 - nothing you wouldn't see on the show, anyway
spoilers: "and jesus brought a casserole"
disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a little girl. And she was verry little, and didn't know much about copyrights or complicated things with big words. And one day this little girl wrote a fic, using somebody else's characters, which was very illegal. But then she told people they weren't hers, in a disclaimer, and it was a little less illegal. Quotes are from the episode.
notes: Syl-POV fic, 'cause I'm gonna marry her, and her pain should be explored. Have fun.
feedback: send all questions, comments, death threats and everything else concerning the fic should be sent to Happygirl_com@yahoo.com
+++
"KIA."
Killed In Action. That's all he told us - all he gave us - before he left. The last we heard of Max - big sister Max, who gave me my name and used to hold my hand when the seizures got too painful to hide - was K.I.A. In that moment, that fraction of a millisecond where my brain processed the news, a thousand crazy thoughts ran through my head. Maybe - maybe we could go back and get Zack, and make them pay. Maybe we could get her back...do really good CPR, find a band-aid. Maybe there was something we could do...maybe if I screamed loud enough, it wouldn't have happened. I'd wake up and it'd all be a bad dream, all of it. Max wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead, she was Max. Strong Max, brave Max, big sister Max, Max who helped organize the escape. Any second, she was going to come running through the trees, laughing and proud and alive. But she didn't. She didn't come.
After I processed it, after I realized that she was dead and gone and never coming back, I heard the shouting. Somebody - something - screaming "No" and "No" over and over again, like maybe if the words were said loud enough, they'd be right. It was exactly everything I felt, what I wanted to do. I wanted to find that person and join them in their screaming...It took me a full five minutes to realize the sounds were coming from me.
Krit...Krit was there with me, that private place of grief that only we could find, 'cause she wasn't anybody else's big sister. I remember, back at Manticore, that we'd sometimes make up stories about our families, and why we ended up at Manticore. Everybody always used to say that Max and Krit looked so alike, they were brother and sister for real. I don't remember what he did after Lydecker left us by the van. I don't remember anything really, after I shut myself up...because then it's blank for a while. I don't remember stumbling into the trees, or having Krit follow me, but it must have happened because the next thing I remember is leaning against a tree, and looking down at my dinner, with Krit holding my hair back. I remember the pizza...
/: "Chow down, my grunts" :/
...and the Coke, and the apple I snagged on my way out, just to show everybody how tough I was. And God, was I tough. Psyched about finally doing some damage the way I used to love, with weapons and my family covering my back, marching for the flag that used to be our target. Our objective in the drills Lydecker used to train us for. Except this time, we were going to blow it up.
I kind of...retreated, then. After I'd wiped my mouth, and we were back by the van, and Lydecker hauled Logan onto the floor. I think...I think I was the one who screamed and threw the grenade, 'cause I don't think Krit had any. It was a little satisfying, though, to know that at least three of the X-7s that killed Max were dead themselves. That scared 'Deck a little. Served him right, though, the son of a bitch.
We had to knock Logan out three times on the way back to Seattle. The first time, we weren't ready for it. I was almost asleep, curled up on a spare patch of floor, when he started screaming and crawling towards the back doors - I think if Krit hadn't caught him, he would've jumped.
That's when I cried again, for real. Just...quiet tears on the floor of our van, so Lydecker wouldn't see me. The one moment that I'll remember from the attack - the moment I'll remember for the rest of my short life - was on that ride home. I remember crawling over to Krit, who was sitting with his back against the side of the van, staring at the wrench he'd used to knock Logan out. Wondering how it got there, maybe. I put my head on his knees and shuddered, pulling my knees up to my chest. And...he put his hand on my forehead, just above my hairline, and told me, "Shhh, little sister. Everything's gonna be okay. It's gonna be alright, I promise."
I believed him. I don't really remember much after that...I started babbling about how he didn't know that everything was gonna be alright, and maybe Max was alive, and when we got back I was gonna get an apartment in Seattle...everything and anything, just to hold off the silence. Anything to stop the silence.
I remember being at Manticore...how we used to call each other "big brother" and "big sister," 'cause...some of us were bigger than others. I was always "little sister," 'cause I was the smallest, 'cept for Eva. But she's dead now, isn't she? We're all dying. Lydecker's dream was to send thirty perfect soldiers into battle and lose none - but how many are dead? Five? Ten?
When you hear stories about all the wars that happened in the past - World War One, World War Two, Vietnam - you always hear about the soldiers. The people who died like heroes, the people who died like cowards, the soldiers who weren't special enough to do anything but add to the body count. Nobody ever tells stories about the people who had to dig their graves. The survivors are the real soldiers. War stories...they're not about the dead ones. They're about the soldiers who weren't lucky enough to be KIA. Like Max.
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[End]