Enemy: Part 4

I'm trying to power through this as quick as I can, I haven't forgotten about Slave Girl.  Also, last chance to get in on the poll.  It is SUPER close!  I'll be ending it as soon as I log in tomorrow.

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I stare at the man who called me enemy.  That moment back on the planet when I let my heart and my cock get the better of my brain had come around to its inevitable conclusion.  We might have kept it going for a bit longer but, deep down, I always knew this was how it would end.  I stand straight, hands clasped behind my back, and nod.  “Very well.”

He looks at me in disbelief.  “Very well?”

“I did the thing.  I’ll take the punishment.  Do what you gotta do.”

“You are an idiot.”

“Gran said I was as smart as a near-sighted mule too.”  I say.  “She said it with love but…yeah.”

“Wh-what’s wrong with you?  You’re crazy.”

I snort.  “Ain’t we all?  Who in hell that’s sane ever makes it out the other end of a war?”

“I’m done with you.”  He waves his hand.  “Get out.”

“No.”

“Get the hell out Joseph.  Leave now and I’ll tell them I tricked you.”

I raise a curious brow.  “Why would you do that?”

“You’re the only one allowed to be an idiot?”  He says.  “Go on now.  I’ll put an end to this for both of us.”

“I thought you wanted to kill the enemy?”

He turns his head from me and swears under his breath.  “I hate you.”

“That’s fair.”  I say.  “I earned it.”

“If you’re trying to call my bluff it’s not going to work.  I’m telling them one way or the other.  I refuse to live like this.”

“I understand.”

“Just get out of here!”

“No.”

We stare at each other for a long minute, testing each other’s will, before it is me to break eye contact.  With a long sigh I bow my head, my shoulders slumping and my arms swinging limply to the sides.  I thump heavily down on the bedside chair and stare down at my hands.

“I’m just like you say.  A monster.  A butcher.  A murderer.”

“I know.”

“How do I go back home like this?  How am I supposed to look my Gran in the eyes…after what they’ve seen?  Huh?  How am I supposed to hold her hand again…with what these hands have done?”

“Return as the conquering hero.  For the glory of the Empire.”

“Empire.”  I scoff.  “My slice of the mighty Empire was a rented room above a ramen shop.  And I’ll be going back to vet benefits and the unemployment line.  That’s my Empire.”

“You poor, poor thing.”  Derision drips from his words.  “You should have thought about that before you stepped forward to fight.  At least you had a choice.”

“A choice?”  I let out a humorless laugh.  “I didn’t have a choice.  I was conscripted.  It was the Marines or prison, along with penalties for my Gran, my brother and his family, and my girl.”  I rub my hard, calloused hands together.  “Even a hint of disloyalty among friends or family is enough to make you a pariah.  And once I was in it was follow orders or…death.  Desertion comes with a death sentence or a life sentence in the mines, same thing in a way.”  I swallow.  “I didn’t want to come here.  I didn’t want to…do the things I did.  I didn’t fight for the Empire.  Or glory.  I fought because I was scared.  I fought for my brothers beside me.  I fought so that I could see my home again.”

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you or something?”

“No.”  I say flatly.  “You’re supposed to do your job.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re right.  You are a soldier.  I am the enemy.”  I hunch over, elbows on my knees.  “Do your duty and cut me down.  I won’t stop you.”

There is a long moment of silence…and then I feel a soft caress over the top of my head.  “You bastard.”  He says softly.  “You fucking bastard.”  I recall saying those exact words back on the planet’s surface.  I look up at him to see him looking down on me with warmth and sympathy.  Sympathy!  “You are really making it difficult to hate you Joseph.”  Gently he pets my head, my short coily hair running smoothly across his supple palm.

“I’ve done bad.”  I whisper.  “Real bad.”

A flash of pain crosses his beautiful face.  Not a pang of the body, but the agony of a tortured soul.  “I wonder what’s worse.”  He whispers.  “Fighting for an unjust cause…or not fighting for a just one?”  Tears glimmer along the bottoms of his blue eyes.  “I’ve done bad too Joseph.  When the call came…I fled.  I would not fight for my planet.  For my home.  For my…”  His voice cracks.  “…family.”  He swallows and wipes a tear from his cheek.  “I am no soldier.  I’ve never fought for anything.  They tried to make me fight but…I wouldn’t.  Not even at the end.”  He looks to the ceiling.  “Oh God!  Everyday you keep me alive…is another day I have live with my cowardice.”  He takes a deep shuddering breath before saying so softly I barely hear it.  “I don’t hate you Joseph.  I hate myself.”

Reaching up I stroke the back of his long, delicate hand.  “I’m sorry.”

He pulls his hand away and lays it over his heart.  “Even now I’m too much of a coward to do what I know I should do.  God I hate…”  He sighs.  “What am I supposed to do Joseph?”

“I don’t know.”  I confess.

He looks back at me.  “Why did you save me?  At least tell me that.  Why Joseph?”

“Um.”  I squirm.  “I don’t…know.”

“It was a fool’s gambit.”  He says.  “What if somebody recognized the name?  What if I would have said something?  What if I had drug allergies?  What if my blood type had been different?”

“Blood type?”

“They had to give me a transfusion for the…amputations.”  He stares at the place where his feet ought to be tenting up the blankets.  “It’s a miracle I survived this long, or a curse.”  He looks back at me.  “There are a hundred ways this could have gone wrong.  And still could!  And it will inevitably find its way back to you.  Why!?  Why did you save me?  Right when you’re going home.  Why do it?”

I sit up and wring my hands nervously.  He was right of course.  I owed him this answer at least.

Speaking in short bursts I speak the truth. “I saved…you because…”  I take a breath.  “…I…thought…you were…beautiful.”

He blinks.  “What?”

I swallow and say again more steadily.  “I thought you were beautiful.  I thought you were so beautiful.  Something lovely and precious and fragile in a world of shit.  A little bit of heaven in the burning hell of that village.”  I shake my head.  “Something inside of me…broke.  I just…I couldn’t let you…I couldn’t…I couldn’t!”  I now wipe my own tears away.  “I thought maybe if I did one good thing…”  I gasp.  “…just one…maybe I could go home again.”  I sniffle and wipe the annoying tears from my eyes.  “But there ain’t no going home.  Not really.  Gran’ll be…so ’shamed…of me!” 

The next thing I knew I was weeping.  For the first time since I was a boy, I wept.  Openly with hard, heaving sobs.  I hide my face in the edge of the bed to let the blankets soak up my tears.  The soft hand returns to my head.  The hand of a near stranger, the hand of my enemy, a hand comforting me in my lowest moment.  Pulling myself closer I bury my face into his lean chest and cling to him for strength.  He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.  Years of caged up emotions and fears and shattered dreams come pouring out of me.  I cry and he cries too.  Two broken men, two lost souls, with nobody else to turn to.

Chapter 5