roosterr's descent into madness

it's a certain type of melancholy, familiar and aching, finding this photo again. it used to sit framed on her desk, back when orca was just a commander, but now the picture is marred by creases down the centre from where it had been folded in eric's journal for all these years.

neither her nor eric would ever dare get rid of it, but orca can't stand the wave of nostalgia that sinks her stomach like lead. even with the corporal's face burnt out, it's one of very few memories left of the time they all had together.

and it hurts.

vulture's wide grin, the one she always had on her face not matter what this job threw at them. before the OSOD, she'd been an airforce pilot, a natural pro behind the controls of a helicopter, and that was probably why it was inevitable, she supposes, that they became friends. it was a sort of rivalry, a good-natured competition between the two pilot's of the team, and orca didn't realise how much fun they used to have until it was gone.

klaus was calm, and quiet, and often the voice of reason for the group. he was much more similar to orca in personality, and the first time they met it seemed that he was relieved to finally get a break from the extroverts. there was always that unspoken understanding between them. he would hide in her office, often just sitting quietly on the old couch she had in there, away from the chaos the other two brought.

he was always talking about his wife and their son. that memory always stings.

the colonel, however– well, she can stay dead. she didn't even want to be in the picture, and, honestly, orca didn't want her in it either. and she didn't know it at the time, but she wished badger wasn't in it either.

it's bittersweet, really, that such a fond memory is tainted by the reason none of them are around anymore.

it's over now. but it still hurts.