11 December 2012
Sparks slipped out of the chair he was sat in and crawled over to Sam's feet. He sat in front of the man and watched the old mercenary talk.
"You... The Alpha project. That's how it started." Draco shook his head. "I was... Incarcerated for crimes I'd rather not talk about. Murder. First degree." Draco glanced at Sam, who was looking at him intently. "I was approached by a guy in a suit, said I could get out if I did... Something called the Alpha project. I- I didn't want to, I thought I deserved to rot in jail for my whole life. But, I said yes. And they took me to the Grounds, you've been there - you lived there, yeah?"
Sam nodded, he'd spent nearly ten years there. It was his home. An abandoned army base in Canada had been stripped and refurbished with everything a group of mercenaries would need. There was a budget for changing it every now and then, if they really needed to. Sam remembered asking for his room to be painted dark blue. Once he'd asked Cap, everyone asked for their own room to be painted anything other than the boring grey or white they had. He'd opened the floodgates.
"I was there for eleven years before I was asked to recruit someone - Cap, that was who I was recruiting. I was 36 then. Cap was twenty three when I got him, he had long blonde hair and was well built. No gang affiliations, death row, no family... Wouldn't be missed. And he- to put it lightly, he hated my guts. It was okay though, I knew how he felt. He didn't have a choice." Draco smiled weakly. "He was a good lad, I miss him."
Sam cracked his knuckles, and stood up. "I hated him for bringing me there too. I know how it feels."
Draco looked up at Sam as he paced the room. "What happened to him? I heard- I know he died, but... Nothing more than that."
"I killed him." Sam sighed, tears reaching his eyes. "I... He was hurt pretty bad during a mission and he decided to save me rather than himself, and he died."
Draco nodded, looking down at his aged hands. He was 64 now and he missed the life, the way he was when he was younger. He missed his friends, but he thanked God that his injuries were bad enough to get him out of the life forever or he might have ended up like Cap. Dead on some unknown mission bringing down some scumbags with enough ammo to scare the leaders of that area, but not enough to require army assistance. It was a goddamn shitty life really, but the thrill... Draco hissed air through his teeth. The thrill was everything he had ever wanted, ever needed. "How'd you get in?"
"Sam..." Althea smiled, pulling Sparks to her side, "We can leave if you want us to..."
Sam shook his head. "No, I'll tell you too."
She nodded and Sparks took a hold of one of her thin pale hands. His grip looked almost painful, but she kept a straight face. Sam's back was turned to the trio as he thought about what to say, how to say what he wanted to. He sat carefully in the seat he'd chosen before. His fingers were arched in front of his face and he focused on them as he spoke.
"I was twelve. My mother had died, my father was abusive. I ran away, lived in a warehouse district. Big empty rooms full of boxes full of everything you could ever want. I stole and ran, learning the hard way not to get caught." He paused and looked around the cigar smoke stained room, his lips parting with a few slient thoughts. "One day, I'm in the place I called home and these guys; six of them, one blonde and wounded, one red headed and bearded, one dark haired and pale and tall, and three others that were just shapes in the darkness. The wounded one was dying, that was obvious. I was thirteen then, had learnt a little bit about medicine. Just enough to keep myself alive, you see? So I - stupidly - go to help the wounded one. He freaks that there's a kid there, but owes me his life. He collapses and the red head takes him in his arms and... Carries him out. The dark haired one picks me up and carries me with them. I was underfed and weak, couldn't put up a fight. They had me back at the Grounds before I knew what was happening..."
Althea patted his leg and smiled at him. Sam placed his hand over hers and kept talking.
"These guys introduce themselves to me. The wounded one was Cap, the current leader of their small... Tribe, I guess. And the big one was Fox. He was... Funny but, so weird. And the dark one was Alistair - he's cut all his hair off and that hooked nose is less prominent now. And there were the three others. Kira, the newest one. Looked like a puppy really. He was Japanese, his name meant bite or something. Pretty cool guy, to be honest. He was ten years older than me but didn't act like it. Became my friend quite easily. We saved each there's asses more times than I can count. I'll never forget him."
Sam paused, looking down at his feet. He mulled over an idea; it settled itself in his mind. "Go to bed Sparks."
Spark's head jerked up, he looked like a wounded child. His mouth worked over words that he didn't have the time to utter. He was lifted to his feet and removed from the room by Althea, her guiding hand pressed against his back. Sparks didn't dare fight her, she'd kill him. He sighed and accepted it, he wouldn't be able to hear anything else about Sam's mysterious past.
Old work - 4 - Working It Out • Opuss № I