TITLE: Blood on Snow
AUTHOR: Fawe (fawe@mastershouse.freeserve.co.uk)
CATEGORY: SJ Angst
SUMMARY: Blood. Snow. Thoughts.
SEASON/SEQUEL: None
SPOILERS: Teeny one for Solitudes. But that was series one, so I doubt anyone has actually failed to see it
RATING: PG13 (Is that a rating? It sounds stupid) because of a TEENY bit of bad language and, as the title suggests, some blood
ARCHIVE: Sam and Jack archive please, anyone else if they tell me where they put it.
FEEDBACK: Does the Beast of Bodmin Moor really exist? (Hint: A lot of people believe so, not everyone really cares. Few people say categorically not)]. Guess which category I belong to?)
DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story are the property of MGM, Showtime and Gekko. I think. Not certain on that. Anyways, they ain't mine. Poor me. If they were mine, I might actually have some money.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been watching Band of Brothers. It has this effect on me sometimes.
**
They say that blood bounces on snow and ice. He had never bothered to find out. He'd often been in a good position to do so, but he had never been in the mood to discover whether there was any truth behind an old wives' tale. Fairly understandable, as it was generally his blood that was, or was not, bouncing.
The blood fell. Drip. Drip. Drip. Whether it bounced or not, he neither noticed nor cared. It just dripped. It shone scarlet on the blindingly white ground, the pool gradually turning into a sticky mess as it soaked into the snow, and spread across the ice. It was the only splash of colour he could see. The whiteness spread on for miles and miles. As far as the eye could see. Probably as far as that damn bird could see, hovering above him, waiting for him to die.
He didn't want to give it the satisfaction of the meal his body could provide it with. He didn't care if he died, as long as he outlived the bird. He didn't want it ripping away at his rotting carcass. He didn't want his body to be one of those that can only be identified by the dog tags.
He didn't want her to see a bird perched atop his mutilated corpse, his blood dripping from the stupid thing's beak. He would never want anyone to have to see that, but especially not her. It wouldn't be right. She didn't deserve to have to live with that sight for the rest of her life. He'd seen bad things in his time, woken up in the night in a cold sweat from dreaming about them. She shouldn't see those horrors. She'd seen bad things, he knew, but he somehow felt that if she saw him like that, it would be worse for her than anything that had gone before.
The pool was larger now. Steam rose from the snow where his warm blood fell on it. The blood was little more than a sticky mass. The flow had slowed now. His heart was beating more slowly, it would take longer for the blood to circulate. A slow and painful death, on his own, on a planet in the middle of an ice age. A real ice planet, this one. Not like Antarctica.
The bird flew away. Something had startled it. He heard the muted roar of a UAV passing overhead. He heard the change in the note as it turned, heading back for the gate. She'd explained to him, once, why the note changed. He'd listened. He already knew, but he'd listened all the same. He liked to hear the sound of her voice. He liked the twinkle in her eye that showed that they understood each other. He knew what she was talking about, and she knew that he knew. But she still explained, because she knew he liked hearing her explanations.
He'd never hear her explain how a wormhole worked again. Never hear her explain why everywhere they went, except apparently this planet, there were trees. Unless he was very, very lucky, he'd never even see her face again. And he'd never even told her that he loved her.
Life's a bitch, and then you die.
**Fin**
Story Notes: I've been watching Band of Brothers. It has this effect on me sometimes.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]