I
UNDERDOG
"ATONE FOR YOUR SINS"
DISCLAIMER
NOTE: I am aware that the entire series is not finished yet. With the potential number of changes in the canon, this story will be an AU (Alternate Universe) that combines both elements and characters from Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, while adopting some actual new elements from the canon. This story is also not too "Lore-Friendly" (aka not being too accurate to the world of the Canon.) So, be warned if some inaccurate information in this AU may make you cringe.
Both shows along with their characters DOESN'T belong to me. The series respectively belongs to SpindleHorse and its creator, Vivienne Medrano (aka "VivziePop".) The plot in this Fan Fiction and some characters you'll know who are OCs (Original Characters) are original from me. If any ideas or characters sound similar to another story written by somebody else, it is purely coincidental. I refuse to blatantly steal somebody's idea and claim that it was mine. If you have any concerns, you are always welcome to message me.
If there is anybody outside of this site posting this Fan Fiction without giving proper credit or impersonating me, please let me know.
Chapter 8: Mortuary Affairs.
"Thank you for your service…"
[WARNING: This chapter might make military veterans or victims of losing their loved ones in the military uncomfortable due to the subject of this chapter. You may stop reading this chapter if it gets too much. Take care of yourself.]
-(Dover Air Force Base, Delaware, United States of America [2018])-
(Morgan's POV)
Fourteen years ago…
I was returned back to stateside, which was both comforting yet uneasy, being unable to shake off all the troubles in my mind.
Due to what happened at the Kandahar–Herat Highway where we were ambushed and sustained injuries from that suicide bomber, Deuce and I were put on convalescent leave until we were able to reach a good enough recovery to return to duty. As of right now, our wounds were still fresh from that battle. Deuce received a moderate concussion with multiple shrapnel wounds that almost hit his vitals, which could've killed him. And yet he still managed to keep on fighting after the rounds started firing. As for me, I also suffered major shrapnel wounds with a much less serious concussion compared to Deuce's. But I think the worst wound I received was the hole in my heart for losing three of my men.
Both Deuce and I were seated quietly eating our food inside of a hot dog place across the Fisher House, where the families of Jaiden (Dove), Bailey (Knocker), and Jake (Joker) were currently staying in until the mortuary began. Deuce was eating his hot dog and immensely enjoying it, but behind his bliss was the saddened state of loss. He was a few years older than me and maybe he could handle things a lot more than I could. But that was just me trying to assure myself that I could keep myself together. In reality, I haven't even touched my food as my chest felt too heavy and miserable to stomach it.
Deuce looked up at me and sighed. "Tyke, you got to at least put something in your stomach. I know it's hard, but it might make you feel better."
With that, I spiritlessly took my hot dog and somewhat forcefully tried to eat it which did taste amazing. But not enough to comfort. "Pretty good…"
"Tell me about it. I haven't had a good hot dog ever since last year." He said while adding an excessive amount of hot sauce and ketchup to his halfway done frank. "Actually, Jake was the one that cooked those up for us when we finally got to use a grill."
I smiled lightly from the memories we had and nodded. "I'll miss that motherfucker's cooking. It's not going to be the same anymore…"
Deuce nodded and smiled back lightly. "Whether it's in Heaven or Hell, hopefully we see each other again so I can relive his cooking."
Leaning against my chair to the left, I noticed a woman walking with a child in the other side of the place we were eating in. Near the Fisher House. I knew it was Bailey's girlfriend taking her son out for a walk. "Anything happened while you were checking up on them…?"
"President Trump already had a word with each of their families. He won't be here to attend the mortuary. He just gave them his condolences, which was enough for them."
"How is everyone? Who had it worse?" I asked Deuce since he recently checked up on our men's families.
He frowned and looked away sadly. "Jake's family accepted their loss, but that doesn't mean they're undamaged by his death. Bailey's girl is in denial. She just tried to convince herself and their kids that he was still out there doing work. But Jaiden's wife…she's having it bad. Even her dad is having trouble trying to comfort his little girl…"
"How the hell am I supposed to talk to them now…?" I asked. Ever since we all arrived in Dover, I completely refused to show my face around their families out of shame. Their lives were my responsibilities and Lord knows how they'll react seeing me.
"One way or another, you're going to have to talk to them." He told me with a straight face. "They deserve some words from the man that led them and knows them more than anyone else in the Marine Raiders."
"I…know…" I sighed while awkwardly twiddling with my phone. "Ever since we got back to Camp Shorabak after the ambush, it just kept bothering me on how I should confront them…"
"You still have a little bit of time to think about it. Just don't overthink it."
I nodded before my phone fell back on the table. Then, it vibrated as if I received a text message. And I was right.
"Sup!" – A text by Senior Airman Bennet, that PJ (pararescue) member I met up with whom was a part of the unit that responded to our distress call from the highway ambush.
Deuce was too distracted to notice by continuing to eat his hot dog and side dish, so I silently pulled over my phone and opened the messages. Ever since that day, Bennet and I have been in contact with each other. In Camp Shorabak, he and Deuce became fast friends as they tried their best to put me back into proper mental shape. My fear of that day was taken care of because of those two. But they couldn't patch up the guilt I held. Still, I'm thankful for both of them.
"All good, B. Are you taking care of yourself too?" -I texted back.
"Keeping my hands clean. Just got word you returned stateside. Are you handling everything okay?" -Bennet texted.
"I'm alright. Dave (Deuce) is all good too. Things still fucked up in Afghanistan?" -I replied.
"Same shit, different day. The only thing that changes are the units we drop in to rescue. Today, we had to get a few Green Berets (US Army Special Forces) out east of Kandahar Province." -Bennet sent.
"Hey, man. Least the boys on the ground look up to you and the other PJs when they need help. Again, thank you for coming to get us out of the highway when things went to shit." -I sent to him, with my heart growing heavy thinking about that day.
"No problem. It is my job, but I take pleasure and dedication for it to get my brothers out of there. I know we couldn't get your three marines back alive, and I'm sorry for all that. But just be glad that you and Dave made it out okay." -He texted in order to add some light to it.
Honestly, that still didn't make me feel better, but I didn't want to say to him directly. I remained silent and stared at the text message blankly before having another sent from him.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, buddy. Dave told me everything. It's not your fault." -He reassured me.
That was bullshit. I have been giving myself some time to think about how it all went down, and I knew there would've been ways to stop it.
1.) Keeping my men in a safer distance away from the bomber.
2.) Stay inside the MRAP we rode in.
3.) Find another way to bypass the blocked path.
4.) …go out there myself…
And in the end, I failed. My three marines…my brothers were all killed because of my incompetence. All those years of training and experience in the USMC, all wasted and resulted three men being taken away from their families. My fellow marines and soldiers behind our MRAP also suffered some injuries. Some might be easily treatable, but some might be miserably life-changing; crippled. All this happened because of me. And there was nobody in the world that could convince me otherwise.
"I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Don't go dying on me lol" -I texted, with my "LOL" just being added to hide my grief. At this point, I wasn't comfortable talking about that. But I completely understand why Bennet was doing this. He just wanted to help patch up a bleeding wound in my chest.
"Same to you. Remember, I'm there if you need me to save your sorry ass again. Lol. Take care, Tyke." -Bennet texted last.
Deuce's phone chimed suddenly after receiving Bennet's text. He looked at it and let out a sigh before finishing up his small bag of chips. "It's almost time."
I breathed in deeply as my heart couldn't stop racing. Forcing myself to finish my hot dog and the rest of my chips, I stood up before Deuce did the same thing. "Time to say goodbye to our brothers…"
"Yeah…" He nodded and followed me out of the shop.
We were told to meet everyone else participating in the dignified transfer outside of the C-17 that contained the three of my men. Accompanied by the Air Force's mortuary affairs team and a handful of Marines there to handle the cases, we all at least greeted each other briefly before we saw the three families walk towards us. With them was the general officers and the chaplain. The expression on all their faces says it all. Loss. For the rest of us, we all went to our places as me and Deuce stood with the grieving family and the rest while the Marines stood in formation.
Waiting for the ramp of the C-17 to open and lower down. And as soon as that happened, I could hear a woman sobbing quietly upon the reveal of the three cases, wrapped with the American flag. I wasn't sure who was sobbing specifically, but it clearly pained all of us. The Marines slowly marched to the ramp where Air Force mortuary affairs members from the flight stood in silence. Then, the general officers stepped onboard while the chaplain said the prayers. When it was done, the officers stepped off the plane and returned next to us where the Marines slowly lifted one of the cases and carried it to the cargo van. Me, Deuce, and the families tried our best not to show any sign of breaking as we watched the first case about to pass us.
Those who weren't in military uniform, mainly the three families gathered there, placed their hands on their chests. For the general officers along with me, Deuce, and some others wearing the uniform gave the last formal salute. One by one, all three cases were carried to the cargo van before the Marines saluted one last time to the dead brothers they carried. I wasn't sure if this was going to be the last time I would get to see their bodies. But in my mind, I gave a short prayer and said my goodbyes to my Marine brothers.
As soon as the vans disappeared from sight, the woman who was sobbing earlier finally gave in to her emotions, now crying out loud. It turns out it was the girlfriend of Knocker (Petty Officer Second Class Bailey Kelly †), my team's SARC (Special Amphibious Reconnaissance Corpsman). One of her children, who was only five years old, was confused and tried comforting her mother while the siblings began to cry from the sight of their mother sobbing. Joker's (Corporal Jake Gomez †) family all gathered closer to begin comforting each other while his mother took it harder than the rest.
Deuce went over to Knocker's family to try and comfort them. For me, I was going to head up to Joker's family before…
"Excuse me." A voice called up from behind me.
I turned around to see Dove's (Sergeant Jaiden Anderson †) wife who was giving her two-year-old son to her parents, who were also comforting Dove's side of the family with their loss. "Yes…?"
"Staff Sergeant Adler. Correct?" She asked rather sternly.
"…Yes…" I nodded as my heart dropped, fearing what was about to come. And I was correct.
"You have some nerve to come out here…" She growled while walking closer towards me.
Looking into her eyes, I could see a mixture of anger and grief. There was no way I could get angry at her for saying that, since I completely understood what she was going through. "I just had to see my men." I said.
"You HAD to see your men? The men you got killed, and you HAD to see them because you felt like you were ordered to?"
"Diana," I called her by her first name, remembering it because of Dove mentioning it, "that's not-"
"No. You can shut your damn mouth and shove that bullshit down to your throat." She glared. "I'm not going to have my ass just stand here and have sympathy over the man that got my husband killed. Now, our little boy is going to have to live without a daddy. What do you have to say for yourself?"
At that point, I didn't know any other way to comfort her. I just stood there silently while lowering my head a bit, muttering the only thing I could think of. "I'm sorry…I just-…"
"Just like that? Sorry?" Diana scoffed and stomped forward. "Well, sorry isn't going to do shit, Adler."
And she was right. No words out there were going to make things alright. Talk was cheap. Worthless. And yet, I still believed it could do some good and it only just showed how worthless I was.
"If you really think words are worth shit to me, then say something." She dared while stepping forward.
…
…There was nothing else I could say.
"Silence? Well, if that's it, then…"
*BAM!*
And just like that, I felt an impact on my left jaw before falling to the ground with my hat falling off. I was expecting more hits to be given to me, but then I heard one of the members from mortuary affairs shout.
"HEY! STOP!" One of the marines called out as he restrained Diana with the help of another airman and one of the general officers close to him.
"M-Mom…?" Jaiden and Diana's child stood there frozen to what he had just seen.
"What are you doing?!" Diana's father intervened and joined in to restrain his daughter.
As for Jaiden's father, he carried his grandchild away from the situation to avoid letting him witness anything further.
"THE FUCK?!" Deuce exclaimed while running to me to make sure I was alright. "Morgan, are you okay?! What happened?!"
"I GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO SAY SOMETHING ONE LAST TIME, AND STAYING QUIET WAS ALL YOU GAVE ME?!" Diana roared as she was fruitlessly fighting back to be released from the men holding her back from causing even more harm.
"Ma'am, please! You need to relax!" The airman holding her back said.
"I'LL RELAX UNTIL THAT MOTHERFUCKER ADMITS TO TAKING HIM AWAY FROM ME!"
Deuce was clearly offended by her assumption and had one of Jake's and Bailey's relatives stop him from approaching Diana. "You haven't been there to see it and yet you're blaming him just because Morgan was in charge?! Is that your only excuse?!"
"Diana, please…" Bailey's girlfriend stepped forward to try and ease the grieving woman, which was a lot coming from another who was grieving too. "…stop putting all of this on Morgan. He's just-"
"You better not say he's just a young man!" She interrupted harshly, "Being twenty years old is already enough to take in some responsibility!"
"I-I just…"
"NO! NO! MORE! EXCUSES!" Diana reached her breaking point and made one last attempt to attack me, only to be stopped again by the men holding her back. "YOU GOT HIM KILLED! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ALL OF US! SOME MARINE YOU ARE! YOU FUCKING DISGRACE!"
"Diana! Stop! That's enough!" Her father shouted while forcefully pulling her back with the three service members, away from me.
"You ruined EVERYTHING! YOU RUINED MY FAMILY JUST LIKE THE REST OF BAILEY'S AND JAKE'S!" Diana cried as finally gave into her tears. She collapsed to her knees and began to wail out.
My body remained frozen. I just couldn't bring myself to get up on my feet. Everything was numb. I couldn't even feel the pain on my face from the punch she delivered. All eyes were on both of us, and it felt so humiliating to me as I was unable to say a word to comfort anybody. So, I just sat there. All I heard next was Deuce stomping in and angrily growling at the mourning widow that just assaulted me.
"I. cannot. FUCKING BELIEVE YOU!" Deuce shouted at Diana.
"Carpenter, please relax. She didn't mean to…" Diana's mother called him by his surname, attempting to ease the situation.
Still unfazed by her attempts, Deuce scoffed and stood in front of me as if he was ready to defend me from any further attacks from Diana. Which didn't seem likely. "I can understand your loss. But you DO NOT pull that shit on Adler when he tried his best out there! Do you think that would've made Jaiden happy when you did that?! HUH?!"
"Dave." I called Deuce by his first name to get his attention. "That's enough. It's not good to beat down someone who's still coping from loss…"
Deuce slowly realized what I meant and eased down, letting out a sigh and stepping away from Diana who was still sobbing on the ground. "Fine. Sorry…" He apologized to Diana and her parents.
Slowly and quietly, I got up from the ground with my hat, dusted it and myself while unable to look at anybody in the eye. All I felt was shame. Even the uniform on couldn't save me…
"Morgan, look…" Diana's father bit his lip and tried to approach me, but I stopped him.
"No. It's fine…" I said emptily and looked at him before putting my eight-point utility cover back on my head. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. To all of you. I…have failed…" I added while looking at both Jaiden's, Jake's, and Bailey's families.
Those were the last words I said to them before I turned my back to walk out of the mortuary. Nobody stopped me as all personnel from a part of mortuary affairs and those attending it knew not to stop me. And still, my body felt numb. My legs were moving on my own as I just wanted to get out of there and seclude myself somewhere empty.
After some minutes of walking, I finally reached my car outside the commissary's parking lot near the hot dog place we ate in and began to drive off to head outside the base through the main gate way. I just silently drove with the radio off as the numbness was starting to subside. Only replacing it with painful heartache that felt crushing by the minute. I just gritted my teeth and held in the pain in order to hide it from the airman guard at the entrance of Dover Base's Housing, which is where Deuce and I were temporarily staying in a two-bedroom place until our convalescent leave was over, or until we're transferred somewhere else.
Reaching the unit we were staying in, I parked and walked inside to be welcomed with complete silence. It was then the pain in my chest was now reaching to the most excruciating level. When I sighed, it was completely shaky. And when I blinked, the first tear dropped out of my eye. I could easily handle physical pain. But it was nothing compared to what I was feeling. Walking towards the fridge, I saw a bottle of whiskey that Deuce drinks on occasions to settle down a bit. And I needed it. I opened and shoved the top to my mouth, bottoms up.
I didn't care if I was below the drinking age. My main focus was to make the pain stop while my eyes continued to well up with tears, and my mouth gulped down the burning and bitter alcohol. As soon as I stopped to catch my breath, I was already halfway done with the bottle.
Looking down at the bottle, I saw the bandage still on my wrist from the ambush. That was when my mind wandered off and began to remember that day clearly. The old man's hostile glare, him shouting out his prayer, and the blast. An image of seeing my men getting blasted forcefully back shook me to my core. I tried to shake off the thought, but my gaze then landed at the picture on the counter. It was all five of us posing in front of the same MRAP we rode on the Kandahar–Herat Highway. Obviously, this didn't help one bit as my mood changed from grief to anger.
"You ruined my family!" I recalled Diana saying directly towards me.
Then, I snapped and threw the bottle of whiskey at the wall. I cursed loudly and did whatever I could to let out all my anger. I flipped the chairs, the table, tossed even more of the glass cups and ceramic plates, and repeatedly punched the walls to the point I dented and soon penetrated through to cause a hole. The fact this was a military unit I was partially destroying couldn't snap me out of it. I was still overwhelmed with anger with my wrist wound slightly opening back up and soaking through the bandage.
Suddenly, what was able to stop me from causing even further damage was my phone ringing. For a brief moment of silence, I looked down at my shaking hands then at my phone on the floor. It must have fallen out of my pocket while I was having a fit. I quickly picked it up and realized who was calling me. It was my mom.
Reluctantly, I answered her. "Hello…?"
"Hello, Morgan. I'm not bothering you, am I?" My mom asked guiltily. She always didn't want to get in the way too much ever since I joined MARSOC.
"M-M-Mom!" I called out cheerfully. But my stutter gave it away clearly that I was faking it to hide what I was going through.
"How's everything? It's been a while since I contacted my little boy."
"Everything has been fine. I'm…I'm back in the states."
"You're back?"
"I got put on leave temporarily. Just…had to say goodbye to…you know…"
"Where are you…?"
"Dover Air Force Base."
My mom already knew what I was there for the moment I said the name. "Morgan…"
"I-I'll be fine. It all went smoothly…" I lied.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" She asked, clearly concerned and saw right through me.
"I'm…fine…" I said before biting my lip to hide hiccups. "I guess I…needed someone to talk to…"
There was a brief silence before my mom sighed and asked, "The ambush has been bothering you this whole time, hasn't it? Baily, Jaiden, and Jake's family didn't take it well, did they?"
I remained silent as I didn't even want to speak while I was still in my shaking state.
"Sweetie, it wasn't your fault."
"Those were my men, mom." I choked, "My duty was to execute the mission and bring them back home. And yet, I led them to die in one of the worst ways to go. I only just made them get taken away from their families…"
"Morgan, you're only twenty years old. You're still my baby boy." My mom said before chuckling lightly as a coping mechanism to hide how much she was hurt. "And yet you have so many responsibilities in the Marines at such a young age. You know it pains me watching my son go through war. Just as painful as watching your father go through war too back then…"
"I'm sorry, mom…" I apologized while looking at my bleeding hand with the bandage wrap still on my wrist from the ambush.
"Maybe you should just…just quit…"
"No." I declined her suggestion. "Listen, dad has been taking care of you ever since. Now that he's gone, it's my duty to pay the bills next."
"It's much more painful seeing you go through war than it is with my health declining!" She told me before things went silent for a few seconds. "Hon, you promised to not make your mom cry. And I'm trying my absolute hardest to not make it happen. Yet you being in this much pain is enough to break it…"
"Mom. Listen," I started, "I just need some time to adapt to everything going on. That's how dad always was, and I can do it too. You don't have to be in pain when I'm in pain. I'll just continue to grow stronger from it. Just…give me some time to accept my faults."
A long pause of silence was between me and my mom's phone call before she let out a sigh and said, "Fine. But don't push yourself too hard. Your father did that and look what happened…"
"I promise it won't end up like that for me. It's my job to take care of you now."
"…Okay." She sighed, clearly holding back her tears. "How long are you staying here in the states?"
"That depends. But I'll try to visit you back in Montana if I get the chance."
"Is that another promise?"
I somewhat forcefully chuckled to lighten the mood. "You know how the US Military works. But you'll never know."
"I pray you'll be able to visit home. But for now, get some rest, Morgan."
"I will. And…thank you for answering my call…"
"Of course, my little boy. Take care. I love you."
"Love you too, mom. Bye."
And that was the end of our phone call. My heart did feel a lot more better talking to the woman I trust in my life, but it was still cracked, and I could feel it deeply. I forced myself up and went to open a first aid kit to treat my cuts from the outburst earlier. When I finished, I focused on cleaning up the mess I created. I had to act quick before my body began to reach the most unstable levels of being drunk. And it was a perfect timing when I finished and laid on the couch in the living room.
My vision just started to blur, a sign that I was unable to handle the approaching effects of the alcohol. All I did was lay there until I fell asleep. Thankfully, all of it along with the drowsiness was able to suppress the physical pain.
-(Scutum Military Cemetery; Pentagram City, Pride Ring)-
Present day…
"Colonel."
My body forcibly recoiled as soon as I felt my right shoulder get grabbed. The moment I looked in that direction, there was Charlie, who quickly took her hand back to herself and frowned. All that was on her face was guilt and concern as she looked to her right. Where she looked in front of me was the twenty-four coffins of the military servicemembers that died from the ambush a few days ago. While all of them were wrapped with the flag for the Kingdom of Hell, some of them who were sinners had their homeland flag in the bottom; where I recognize one having an American flag, Canadian flag, and a Brazilian flag. For the nine WarDogs, their coffins were properly gilded with the unit's insignia in the center.
The sit-down, speeches, salutes and everything was finished, whereas others besides the family of the fallen were free to leave after paying their respects. Hell's sunset was approaching fast.
"I'm sorry, Colonel. I probably shouldn't have touched you like that…" Charlie bowed slightly.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it." I smiled warmly to assure her everything was alright.
This wasn't the first, nor was it the second time I attended a military funeral. But it still saddens me to lose my brothers-in-arms every time I glance over at the coffins that held their corpses. But the one thing that warmed me deep down was that Hell still treats their military servicemembers with the upmost respect possible, similar to the US Military. Hell may be the last place you'd expect this to happen. But it's not always bad down here.
"A grim sight, isn't it?" I asked Charlie while I bowed my head to the dead. "Some of our bests, died in the same day and leaving us to a situation where they wished they were here to help us with…"
"I'll never understand how you WarDogs are still able to act so strong even after something tragic like this happened." She bowed her head to the dead too.
"We mourn. But we're trained to carry on. At least, that's what I kept telling myself ever since losing those three…" I mumbled the last sentence. "If I was the next one to go, my men would know to do the same instead of staying in grief."
"Don't say that. You're already worrying me now." Charlie bit her lip.
"Just part of the job detail, Charlie." I let out a dry chuckle and turned over to the limousine, where Melodie was waiting for us while talking to Vermilion Squad and other regular soldiers in the royal army who attended the funeral. "Let's head back to the hotel. We've done our part for my fallen soldiers."
"Cheer up a bit. The night may have gone darker. But there's always a brighter morning." Charlie smiled sweetly to up my spirits.
After getting onboard Charlie's limousine, Melodie parted ways with her squad and went into the passenger seat with the Royal Guardsman in charge of the wheel. The whole ride was completely silent as there was nothing else to bring up after attending such a depressing funeral. My mind drifted off into space, remembering my marines in their caskets. Next thing I know, we already arrived outside the hotel's driveway. Melodie got out first and opened the door for Charlie before I followed her out.
But I was surprised to see Vaggie standing near the front doors with another woman accompanying her. It was Marcela, my girlfriend.
"Colonel. Your sweetheart is here to see you." Vaggie said to me before smirking at Marcela and nudged her.
"Shut up~!" Marcela blushed and walked down the stairs towards me. "It's good to see you again, mi amor (my love)!"
Some of the depressing energy was gone as soon as I felt Marcela's warm embrace. I hugged her back and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Glad to see you again too, babe."
Charlie looked over at the both of us and smiled. "Aww. Cheer him up for me, Marcela. It's been a long day for him." She told her while Vaggie and Melodie walked inside afterwards.
"With pleasure." Marcela nodded and winked over at me. "Literally."
"Someone has been desperate." I said while snaking my hand down to her waist, opening the door for the both of us to walk in.
"Can you blame me? We've been separated for a few days already."
"We've dealt with longer days." I patted her head. "Remember what I said~?"
Marcela groaned and lightly hit my chest with a pout. "I know, I know. Relax, will you? I didn't smoke too much while we were away from each other."
"I would very much prefer you not to smoke at all. Mainly for your health. I know sinners can handle them a bit better than humans, but I wouldn't want to put your health at risk." I told her.
She stayed silent and sighed. "Fine. I'll continue to try and quit overall. But you better make it up to me. Something needs to act as a replacement for relieving my stress~!"
"Deal. I'll take good care of my sweet piece of ass." I teased, which made her gasp and chuckle.
With that, I kept my arms around Marcela while leading her to the hotel room I was given while supervising the Princess and her establishment until the dust settled. It was a bit of a long walk to near the top floor, but we made it without saying a word. I opened the door and immediately fell onto the bed after removing my combat attire. While doing so, Marcela noticed something on the floor and picked it up. It was my personal notebook that I kept in one of the pockets of my top. It must have fell out while I was taking it off.
Marcela tilted her head, puzzled, and looked at me. "You brung this with you? You could've just left it here instead of having the risk of losing it."
"There are just some things you can't let go of." I smiled dryly. "That notebook, you're holding a lot of history about me that I chose not to forget what I was fighting for."
Marcela frowned a bit and soon formed a smile before taking a seat next to me. "Still can't get that day out of your mind?" She asked while leaning her head against his shoulder.
My silence was enough to let her know the answer. She handed it back, then I placed the notebook with the photo back on the nightstand and sighed. "I don't talk about this to everyone. But that day made me develop a fear of losing my men. I swore to myself that I would do whatever it takes to bring 'em home. Even if that means I'll have to sacrifice a piece of myself."
"Awww…" Marcela wrapped her arm around me. "It's okay now…"
I let out an empty chuckle and shook my head. "Crazy and naïve of me, huh…? Thinking putting myself in danger is enough to make things better for everyone…"
"Your mom was definitely against that, wasn't she?"
"She isn't here with us. So, I don't have to worry about her concern." I shook my head sadly at the thought.
"Morgan~…" Marcela embraced me tighter as she planted a kiss on my cheek. "Not only you've been through so much. But you've been working so hard this whole time."
Letting out another chuckle, I shook my head and tightened my embrace around her a little bit. "You're already sounding like my mom."
"The only differences is I can help you with more than just words. What you need is some physical comfort, Morgan." Marcela smiled and stood in front of me, wrapping her arms around me with longing eyes. "Perhaps I know one form that can put you at ease~…"
I raised my eyebrow with a small smirk on my face. "And what would that be~?"
In response, Marcela removed her dress coat and slowly unbuttoned her top to give me a peek of her ample bust and her white laced bra. Her mischievous smile widened as she rubbed her soft mounds against my chest. "Don't be coy. It's been a few days since we had some fun together."
"Well then, don't mind if I do~!"
Universe Trivia
(Known WarDog Sinners and their last "Official Military" services)
Colonel Morgan Adler- Unites States Marine Corps; MARSOC (United States Marine Forces Special Operations Command), 1st Marine Raider Battalion [2018-2023]
Last Official Military Battle: Operation Freedom's Sentinel (War in Afghanistan)
2nd Lieutenant Marcela Lopez- Mexican Navy; Pacific Naval Force, Second Naval Zone (ZN-2) [2018-2023]
Last Official Military Battle: 2023 Sinaloa Unrest (Mexican Drug War)
Major General Timothy Damiens- United States Army; "Green Berets", 7th Special Forces Group [1972-1990]
Last Official Military Battle: Military Advisor in El Salvador (Salvadorian Civil War)
Lt. Commander Ozren Mylozsky- Russian Federal Security Service (FSB); Vympel Unit/ Directorate "V" Spetsnaz [2013-2023]
Last Official Military Battle: Wagner Group Rebellion (Russo-Ukrainian War)
Chief Warrant Officer Raizo Murakami- Japan Ground Self-Defense Force; North Eastern Army, 9th Division [1962-1975]
Last Official Military Battle: Battle of Okinawa (World War II)
Staff Sergeant Jorge Mayakovsky- Russian Armed Forces; Airborne (VDV), 106th Guards Airborne Division [1993-1996]
Last Official Military Battle: 1994-1995 Battle of Grozny (First Chechen War)
Staff Sergeant Quaid Rohan- United States Army; 75th Ranger Regiment, 2nd Ranger Battalion
Last Official Military Battle: 2006 Battle of Ramadi (Iraq War)
(Was going to add the "FUN" scene in the end but decided not to. Not sure if you guys prefer sex scenes or not. Even if I add them, you can always skip over them. Just let me know.)
If any of you want to read this while seeing some artwork, the AO3 (Archive of Our Own) version has them and will have more overtime. A few have already been posted.
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