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* * *
The shooting rangeis what centers Tayida. Some people get weary from too many hours of drills, but Ty loves it. He is a good marksman. Exceptional. That's why he is going along with Scott – he is to protect him from afar. Cyril is there to keep them both safe and to communicate back to the base.
This pleb shit here is beneath Scott, yet he’s decided to stay low in the ranks for reasons he doesn’t care to divulge in too much detail.
Cyril says this isn’t really what he wants to do with his life, yet here they are a decade later still living a world away from their home and never making real plans to actually start building a life once this is over. They hardly ever talk about it. Cy isn’t doing much reading when they’re on tour, but Ty has been in his home enough times to be familiar with his extensive collection of books on psychology. He has seen him check out universities.
Perhaps this time around, Rian can finally convince him to stay. They could do it together. They could talk him into chasing his own dreams in earnest.
What does Tayida want to do when he becomes areal boy?
He chuckles. He just wants to be with Rian. He doesn’t know what comes next. For all he knows, he can shovel garbage and clean floors. It doesn’t fucking matter, as long as he gets to be with Rian.
An elbow shove to his side gets him out of his musings. Thomas, the range master, is standing next to him, wearing his black bandanna over the lower half of his face. Ty can still see his grin, by the multitude of wrinkles caked with dust around his eyes. Thomas cocks his head ever so slightly to the side – Scott’s come to observe them. Thomas knows all about this shitshow. He is one of the few people who doesn’t give a fuck who Sebastian Scott is. All he has ever said to Ty in regard to his nonchalant attitude is,“I’ve got my own ace in the pocket, and that motherfucker is the real nightmare.”
Ty always does a drill with Thomas before going out on scouting missions. A large stretch of their trek is on foot. It’s the only way to get close enough to the enemy’s camp and observe them without being seen.
Ty takes a turn with all the weapons that he will have with him, going through several rounds with each. Scott is watching, cracking jokes about Ty’s technique.
Gay jokes.
Mother jokes.
Immigrant jokes.
Poor redneck jokes.
Florida educational system jokes.
This time Ty finds it incredibly easy to ignore him. His hand is steady, even if his memories of Scott’s torment are trying to creep back into his mind and unsettle him. If anything, he can now clearly see that, in this situation, no one is taking the bait and Scott’s teasing falls on deaf ears.
Good.
Another deep breath, then forward. Dust swirls around him as he moves, engaging with targets. Live-fire exercises regularly occur within the military base where they are located. His focus is at its best when he must be in complete control of himself. Cyril sometimes jokes that Ty is as steady with his fingers as his heart is shaky on the inside.
Ty has gone on hundreds of these missions. His balanced hands and keen eyes have pushed him ahead of the line of many other soldiers, who want to catch up with his impressive record.
Ty remains humble, as in a place like this, pride brings only enemies and death. His life is at risk every time, just like all his fellow servicemen and women put theirs on the line. He is proud to be the one to watch over them and keep them safe.
The only thing that eats away at him is how much he misses Rian. The more years go by, the harder it is to find a moment when the other man is not on his mind. Every waking minute, Ty worries about him. The more Cyril tells him about their early years in Alabama, the more Ty wants to run home and be there for Rian.
To do that, he must tell the truth. Being honest about loving Rian, after everything he knows about him, seems scarier than war. He might lose his only friend and the love of his life all at once, and the prospect of that happening horrifies him more than dying.
He returns his focus to the task, as he has been moving forward for a moment without even looking. Thomas has him covered. They’re running drills together, weekly without fail. The quiet soldier is one of the most reliable people Ty’s ever met.
Scott is following his every move. Ty can feel his eyes on his back, but it doesn't bother him this time. Cyril has made sure of it. The anger he has for himself, he must harness into energy and do his job well.
Better than he has.So that others are safe, and Cyril is proud of him.
His breathing is steady as he moves forward, switching from his handgun to his rifle. Pausing for a fraction of a second to aim, he then progresses forward at a brisk pace, following movement around him with his peripheral vision, turning briefly left and right to assess potential risks.
Once they are done, he takes his time to prepare their weapons and supplies for the mission. Tayida uses the quiet moment to make a mental inventory of all the incidents between him and Scott. He tries to remember all the details. After every entry, as an affirmation, he mutters quietly to himself, “You were hurting. I forgive you.”
They set off on foot at dusk.
* * *
“Faggots.”Scott says it lazily as if he is trying the word out in his mouth. It sounds forced.
