At What Cost? (PG-13)
Posted: Sun May 27, 2012 7:37 pm
At What Cost?
By: Nutmegger911
A/N: This is dedicated to Gomes. And to WB who was left standing there to pick up the pieces. The characters could be anyone, but I wrote it as ML fanfic.
At What Cost?
By Nutmegger911
Mick peered over the top of the sports section enjoying the view. Across from him on the couch Beth lay on her belly propped up on her elbows and sipping coffee as she worked the Sunday crossword. Her bare legs stretching out behind her, kicked lazily, and her heels occasionally just grazed her bottom, which was barely covered by one of his shirts. “What a great way to spend the long weekend,” he thought as the television droned on in the background.
The announcer came on distracting Beth from her puzzle. “This weekend Americans will fire up the barbeques and knock back a few cold ones to celebrate the beginning of summer. But should we be celebrating? Here with a few words on the subject is Ted Arianna.”
Beth shifted position, lounging on her side to watch her former Buzzwire colleague’s piece.
“Thanks, Dan. Happy Memorial Day. It’s such an odd phrase. Why are we happy for such a somber occasion? Who could possibly be happy that diplomacy has failed so often resulting in war? And who would be happy to die that way, under such horrible circumstances? No one, I say, and that is why we should eliminate the Memorial Day holiday.”
“We’ve all heard it," the reporter continued, "the bravado of young men saying ‘I’d be happy to lay my life down for my country’.” The image of a flag fluttering in the background was replaced with scenes of wartime carnage. “I can assure you, not one of them has seen combat. No, it’s just ignorant arrogance those boys show; a misguided concept of honor. There is no honor in throwing yourself upon the ever growing heap of bodies that politicians use to keep score.”
Mick aimed the remote turned off the television and stalked toward the balcony.
Beth caught up with him and in a soothing voice said, “It’s just an op-ed, Mick. He’s just trying to get these kids to think, that’s all.”
Mick stopped in his tracks and turned toward Beth.
“You think we wanted to go to war?” His look was incredulous. “You think we didn't think about it? It’s not like that. None of us went to war hoping to die, Beth. But we knew the risks. We knew that many wouldn’t come back and we prayed we would be spared – personally, from death, and as a country, in spirit.”
Long fingers combed through his hair, then dropped, slapping against his thigh; with a sigh, he continued. “We didn’t want to go to war, but we couldn’t sit there and do nothing and allow evil to prevail. So what if at the age of seventeen, or twenty, we weren’t articulate about that point.” Mick’s eyes narrowed, his face darkened, and for once Beth knew to stay quiet.
“We weren’t ‘happy to die’ for our country. In fact, it was just the opposite. We wanted to live – in freedom. We wanted our families to live in freedom. We staked our lives on it. We wagered one horrible death against the ten thousand daily deaths of oppression.”
“Many of us died. For them, the battle is over... The rest of us?" Mick’s fist clenched in front of his chest. "For us it will never end. We are charged with remaining ever vigilant to protect all that those men sacrificed themselves for. The least we could do is think about that – to remember them, once in a while.”
Beth’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Mick.” She pulled Mick’s stiff frame into her arms and held him, willing his tension to abate. After what seemed an eternity he enveloped her in his arms, somewhat less tense, but still agitated. They held each other for many moments before Beth’s whisper finally broke the silence. “Thank you.”
By: Nutmegger911
A/N: This is dedicated to Gomes. And to WB who was left standing there to pick up the pieces. The characters could be anyone, but I wrote it as ML fanfic.
At What Cost?
By Nutmegger911
Mick peered over the top of the sports section enjoying the view. Across from him on the couch Beth lay on her belly propped up on her elbows and sipping coffee as she worked the Sunday crossword. Her bare legs stretching out behind her, kicked lazily, and her heels occasionally just grazed her bottom, which was barely covered by one of his shirts. “What a great way to spend the long weekend,” he thought as the television droned on in the background.
The announcer came on distracting Beth from her puzzle. “This weekend Americans will fire up the barbeques and knock back a few cold ones to celebrate the beginning of summer. But should we be celebrating? Here with a few words on the subject is Ted Arianna.”
Beth shifted position, lounging on her side to watch her former Buzzwire colleague’s piece.
“Thanks, Dan. Happy Memorial Day. It’s such an odd phrase. Why are we happy for such a somber occasion? Who could possibly be happy that diplomacy has failed so often resulting in war? And who would be happy to die that way, under such horrible circumstances? No one, I say, and that is why we should eliminate the Memorial Day holiday.”
“We’ve all heard it," the reporter continued, "the bravado of young men saying ‘I’d be happy to lay my life down for my country’.” The image of a flag fluttering in the background was replaced with scenes of wartime carnage. “I can assure you, not one of them has seen combat. No, it’s just ignorant arrogance those boys show; a misguided concept of honor. There is no honor in throwing yourself upon the ever growing heap of bodies that politicians use to keep score.”
Mick aimed the remote turned off the television and stalked toward the balcony.
Beth caught up with him and in a soothing voice said, “It’s just an op-ed, Mick. He’s just trying to get these kids to think, that’s all.”
Mick stopped in his tracks and turned toward Beth.
“You think we wanted to go to war?” His look was incredulous. “You think we didn't think about it? It’s not like that. None of us went to war hoping to die, Beth. But we knew the risks. We knew that many wouldn’t come back and we prayed we would be spared – personally, from death, and as a country, in spirit.”
Long fingers combed through his hair, then dropped, slapping against his thigh; with a sigh, he continued. “We didn’t want to go to war, but we couldn’t sit there and do nothing and allow evil to prevail. So what if at the age of seventeen, or twenty, we weren’t articulate about that point.” Mick’s eyes narrowed, his face darkened, and for once Beth knew to stay quiet.
“We weren’t ‘happy to die’ for our country. In fact, it was just the opposite. We wanted to live – in freedom. We wanted our families to live in freedom. We staked our lives on it. We wagered one horrible death against the ten thousand daily deaths of oppression.”
“Many of us died. For them, the battle is over... The rest of us?" Mick’s fist clenched in front of his chest. "For us it will never end. We are charged with remaining ever vigilant to protect all that those men sacrificed themselves for. The least we could do is think about that – to remember them, once in a while.”
Beth’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Mick.” She pulled Mick’s stiff frame into her arms and held him, willing his tension to abate. After what seemed an eternity he enveloped her in his arms, somewhat less tense, but still agitated. They held each other for many moments before Beth’s whisper finally broke the silence. “Thank you.”
I am truly honored by your request. Thank you. And by all means, you are welcome to use it if you think it will help...
