They were of Pax Humanis, due to their love of making people who hurt the innocent pay in blood, but had severe PTSD. Their night terrors were such they had stopped sleeping with a knife nearby, lest they do themselves harm, much less anyone else. Fortunately, they have a close friend to try to help them through these terrors, so they can get on with the business of living, and saving other lives. -- DaniAndShali
[AN: PTSD is not an automatic ticket to being dangerous. I hope I convey that here]
Viij woke up in the haha again, aiming a stick like a rifle over the embankment as if they were back in the trench. The rain and the thunder provided the answer as to why they were there.
Dwight, their light, was catching them up. The rustle of the big raincoat heralded her arrival, as did the steady patter of rain on the even bigger brolly.
"Can you see me?" said Dwight, draping the raincoat over Viij. "I want you to tell me about five trees that aren't good concealment."
It was the thought process, more than the senses list, that helped Viij find reality again. Five trees that couldn't be hiding enemies. Four tactile sensations that were not pissing them off right now. Three sounds they could turn into a melody if they were recording it. And so on.
Viij shrugged on the coat and cuddled up to Dwight, and tasted her lips for the last thing on the list. Midnight monster breath. Nothing could be realer.
Then it was inside for drying off by the fire and warm cocoa, and the huge cuddle-rug and the dogs. And, of course, talking it through.
Batruvius V had left its mark on them both, but it had left Viij with deeper scars. The cocoa and the fluffiest dog on their lap helped immensely. It reminded them that Batruvius V was far, far away and now a CRC protectorate.
Safe at last from the idiot who thought she could use Pax Humanis as cannon fodder to keep the workers contained.
Pax Humanis had dealt with her in its usual, bloody fashion. They left her alive for prosecution. Barely.
"You were shouting orders again," said Dwight, cuddling close in amidst the pile of dogs. "It sounded like the fifth warehouse."
"In the dream, it was all of them. I had kids in my sights. Kids. Some of them were so flakking tiny... and I couldn't stop myself from shooting."
"You know the truth, now. You did stop shooting. And you stopped others from shooting."
"Flakking Dereggers. I always knew I was a piece of work, but those police? They didn't care what their targets were."
"You had to shoot your own team," said Dwight.
"I had to shoot my team."
"For the greater good," added Dwight.
"For the greater good," Viij whispered. One day, they would say it out loud. One day, they would shout it. One day... they would believe it.
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends!
Send me a prompt [73 remaining prompts!]
