The response this story has gotten is just so overwhelming! I can't believe it. Reading what you guys have to say just blows my mind. Here's chapter two, of what has slowly expanded into a three-parter. Hope you guys don't mind, I just love writing this pairing so much. Enjoy! --- When Soldier is feeling thoughtful, he retreats into his room and waits. He doesn’t sleep. He waits. The American flag hung above his bed brings him no comfort, as it once did. He sits and listens to the crackle of an old radio, listens to the smooth voice of Vera Lynn crooning, “Someday, we’ll meet again,†and he thinks to himself. It’s kind of nice, to just not ‘do’. To simply ‘be’. To turn off his brain like he turns off his sanity on the battlefield. He wonders if she’s right, if what she says is true. If they’ll meet again, maybe off the front lines. Maybe at a projectile weapons expo. Standing, feet poised, on two lines of color, separated by the difference of purple. When Soldier is feeling particularly dark, his thoughts stray. The idea of suicide was preposterous, sure. Suicide was for weaklings and women. For nancies who couldn’t handle the pressures of war. But that didn't stop him from sitting on the edge of his bed, his chin propped up on the tip of his shotgun. Fingering the trigger yet still knowing it was pointless. Respawn would just bring him back in a few moments. A hole in his head would leave him with nothing but a bigger hole in his heart. He knew this for sure because of Scout’s adventurous tests. When the boy was feeling bored he’d sometimes shoot himself (or others) in the head with his pistol, just for a laugh. It was all actually very macabre. Why hadn’t he finished the job? Why hadn’t the first drive of his sword ended it all? Why had Respawn always brought him back, just to send him through hell again? This was more than just some war; it was a constant one-leg-up, a ‘Now that I’ve beat you, I own you’. A fight over sand and capture points, for the entertainment of faceless men. Soldier stared very pointedly at the ceiling. The static voice of Vera Lynn was his only comfort on cold nights. He tries to imagine home, but his mind keeps straying back. To thoughts of him. --- The first time they meet on the battlefield afterward, Soldier is shuffling around in metal footwear. It’s awkward, adjusting to the weight. When Demo stumbled upon him, it’s by accident. An unfortunate wrong turn. The sun beat down on them, and Soldier didn’t notice him at first. He’d been practicing shooting rockets at his feet. The reprieve from the usual pain in his ankles was a welcome relief. It had just been taking some getting used-to. Soldier knows he could have been killed. His back was turned. One well-placed bomb and he would be in pieces. At the moment, he didn’t even have his launcher up. It would be easy. Almost too easy. Soldier smiled wryly at the wall. It wasn’t like him to hesitate. Demo was a man who was driven by emotion, that emotion usually being anger. He wasn’t a man who usually thought things through very well. However, that didn’t silence Soldier’s sudden gasp of shock when he heard Demo’s grenade launcher fire. It was always like Demo to leave him in pieces. --- Two weeks later, after days of silently berating himself, Soldier finally worked up enough courage to visit Demo at his home in New Mexico. They had seen each other on the battlefield, sure, but they hadn’t seen each other close up since their last brawl, which had ended in Soldier’s victory. Soldier stood awkwardly, wringing his wrists for a few moments as he stared pointedly at the door knocker. Willing Demo to just suddenly fling the door open and embrace him, just like he always used to. He raised his fist, pausing just before it hit the wood. His knuckle brushed against it, just barely. He clenched his teeth. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Hesitation be damned. “TAVISH! Tavish, open this door! I’ll be damned, I will tear it off its hinges and claw my way in there if you don’t open up!†Soldier hammered on the door of Demo’s mansion. He had never been one for subtlety. Soldier had stewed in silence, either in his dark apartment or his room in the base, for the past two weeks, and eventually it had become all too overwhelming. He couldn’t go another day without seeing this man, face to face. Damn it. Damn it all. Damn the Administrator and damn that pesky assistant of her’s and damn the men with televisions on their stomachs and damn it all. The door opened suddenly, and Soldier, who had slumped against it in defeat a few moments before, toppled forward into Demo’s arms. “Whoa, lad! Calm yerself!†Demo said, looking down in surprise at the shaking form of Soldier. “Boots!†Soldier wailed, and Demo was taken aback at the man’s spluttering. “Boots, Tavish! We killed each other for boots! I shot your head off and gutted you like a fish, all for boots!†“Aye,†Demo mumbled, rubbing Soldier’s back awkwardly. He peered around. Could somebody be watching them right now? It would not do well for them to be seen like this, arms around each other and crying like schoolgirls. Demo hefted an arm around his friend, and hauled him up. “C’mon, lad, move yer feet! Let’s get ye inside.†Soldier sniffed, but lifted himself up and managed to walk. Demo kicked the front door shut and managed to lead the way into his living room. “Yer lucky me mum’s out fer the day,†Demo muttered, easing Soldier onto one of his sofas and taking a seat beside him. “She wouldn’t be too happeh about ye being here.†Soldier stared hard at the floor. “Boots, Tavish.†Demo resumed rubbing the man’s back, an uncomfortable attempt at calming Soldier down. “Ach, I know. I blew ye up fer nothin’.†Soldier looked up, and Demo could just barely see the edges of his eyes. He leaned forward and lifted the man’s helmet up, so he could see. They were the most electric shade of blue, always intense whether he was on the battlefield or off of it. It was a wonder just to see him. “Ye won those boots outright. Got me good, didn’t ye?†Demo mumbled, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “But it’s over now, mate.†His hand strayed from Soldier’s helmet, moving to rest on the man’s cheek. “Tavish…†Soldier muttered. It was a rare thing to hear such desperate hope in the man’s tone. “Can…can we still be friends, even after that?†“O’course we can, lad!†Demo laughed, “We’ll just have tae be a bit more careful now, aye?†It took a minute, but eventually Soldier returned Demo’s smile. “An’ maybe we can be more than jus’ friends?†Demo asked, his smile turning just a bit devilish. He moved from his place at Soldier’s side, to kneeling on the floor, grinning up at Soldier from between his thighs. “You,†Soldier said, looking down at Demo. “You really expect me to forgive you so soon, after all the times you blew me up?†Demo just kept smiling, skirting his hands across the tops of Soldier’s legs, stopping to rest his hands beneath the hem of Soldier’s t-shirt. “I never hated ye,†he mumbled, running his fingers up and across Soldier’s trembling stomach. “Jus’ hated what they made us become.†“Enemies,†Soldier breathed through his teeth. “Bloody war an’ all,†Demo said, working at the buckle of Soldier’s belt. “Too often did I go to bed with yer blood on me hands.†“I can’t call myself-“ He paused as Demo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Soldier’s exposed hipbone. “A-all that clean, either.†“Aye, mate,†Demo murmured, the air from his breath tickling Soldier’s skin. “We’re both equally guilty.†Demo reached up and lifted Soldier’s helmet off of his head. “There, no need to hide yer eyes anymore, eh?†“Guess not,†Soldier said gruffly, feeling a bit vulnerable without his headgear. Demo, meanwhile, was making quick work of Soldier’ Mantreads, slowly working at the numerous buckles. “I never understood yer obsession with these boots,†Demo mumbled, finally undoing all the knots of one of them. “They always were such a hassle tae get off.†Demo eventually was able to divest Soldier of his favorite pair of footwear, and was now running his hands up Soldier’s slacks. Soldier let out a deep breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He’d missed this feeling, so much. The feeling of this man’s hands on him. “I’d say I like ye better like this than blowin’ me tae bits, eh?†“A-affirmative,†Soldier muttered, never taking his eyes off the man at his feet. Suddenly, Demo lunged forward, grabbing hold of the back of Soldier’s head and crashing their lips together. --- Part three to be posted...soon. Very soon.