A bemused grin spread across Acolyte's face. To Lucia, he said, 'after five years... I'm free... never really paid attention to the possibility that would happen. I got life...' he tailed off. He didn't want to think about that.
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Korovitch stood awkwardly next to Lisa's bed, the upper section of which was raised into a sitting position. He felt her eyes, large, brown eyes that put him in mind of a doe, set intently upon him. It made him uneasy. Her shins were bound, with molded splints, and her hand, fresh out of the first of five reconstructive surgeries, was potted. The doctors told her they could get it more or less as good as new, which was lucky. The bullet had gone straight through rather than fragmenting, despite hitting the bones of her hand. If the range had been anything less than point blank, she wouldn't be so lucky.
They'd been through the immediate necessary questions, how were her injuries, what had the doctors said, how was she holding up? The last was the only one that was not optimistic. Now, the pause seemed to stretch indefinitely. And then...
'Luka?'
'Yes?'
'Could you come here?'
He stepped closer to her bed, but she beckoned him further. Further. Then, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He stood stunned, then awkwardly put his hands on her back, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Sticks' cackle echoed through Luka's mind at that, and he began to pull away, but she whispered, 'no, I didn't mean to.' He returned his hands to her back, and she hugged him tighter, nearly crushing the wind out of him.
After a few seconds, he realized she was crying. Unable to see her face due to it being buried in his shoulder, he only realized when she spoke. 'You... you saved me, sir. You saved me and...' she tried to say something that might have been "thank you" and broke down completely. All he could say was, 'it's fine.'
'No, it isn't, I... I saw the bodies. How many you had to go through. You nearly got yourselves killed for me, I can't just...'
He didn't tell her he'd gone through all that to see his objective to its completion. Not just due to how she might react, but also because, deep down in some long dead part of him, he too felt disgust at that. When he'd finally found her, in the state she was in, his rage had been all consuming. He had killed Sticks out of anger, completely forgetting that it had been his objective in any case. His objective had been forgotten, and if he'd had to bring the Lieutenant alive, the man would still be dead.
Finally, Lisa let him go, and he stood back, slightly relieved. She asked, 'so what will you do now?'
Firmer ground. 'Well, I expect Lee will request a personal report from me, soon. After that, I suppose I'll have to make some additions to Iron Squad to... to cover our losses, and to fill in your spot, until you come back.' Then, 'if you are up to coming back,' he added, hastily.
She nodded, taking this information in.
=========================================================================================================================
Korovitch stood awkwardly next to Lisa's bed, the upper section of which was raised into a sitting position. He felt her eyes, large, brown eyes that put him in mind of a doe, set intently upon him. It made him uneasy. Her shins were bound, with molded splints, and her hand, fresh out of the first of five reconstructive surgeries, was potted. The doctors told her they could get it more or less as good as new, which was lucky. The bullet had gone straight through rather than fragmenting, despite hitting the bones of her hand. If the range had been anything less than point blank, she wouldn't be so lucky.
They'd been through the immediate necessary questions, how were her injuries, what had the doctors said, how was she holding up? The last was the only one that was not optimistic. Now, the pause seemed to stretch indefinitely. And then...
'Luka?'
'Yes?'
'Could you come here?'
He stepped closer to her bed, but she beckoned him further. Further. Then, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He stood stunned, then awkwardly put his hands on her back, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Sticks' cackle echoed through Luka's mind at that, and he began to pull away, but she whispered, 'no, I didn't mean to.' He returned his hands to her back, and she hugged him tighter, nearly crushing the wind out of him.
After a few seconds, he realized she was crying. Unable to see her face due to it being buried in his shoulder, he only realized when she spoke. 'You... you saved me, sir. You saved me and...' she tried to say something that might have been "thank you" and broke down completely. All he could say was, 'it's fine.'
'No, it isn't, I... I saw the bodies. How many you had to go through. You nearly got yourselves killed for me, I can't just...'
He didn't tell her he'd gone through all that to see his objective to its completion. Not just due to how she might react, but also because, deep down in some long dead part of him, he too felt disgust at that. When he'd finally found her, in the state she was in, his rage had been all consuming. He had killed Sticks out of anger, completely forgetting that it had been his objective in any case. His objective had been forgotten, and if he'd had to bring the Lieutenant alive, the man would still be dead.
Finally, Lisa let him go, and he stood back, slightly relieved. She asked, 'so what will you do now?'
Firmer ground. 'Well, I expect Lee will request a personal report from me, soon. After that, I suppose I'll have to make some additions to Iron Squad to... to cover our losses, and to fill in your spot, until you come back.' Then, 'if you are up to coming back,' he added, hastily.
She nodded, taking this information in.
