| Subject: Chapter 281 - Part 1 (16 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Wednesday, April 04, 07:41:33am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark continued (273>)" on Monday, March 05, 07:03:06am
Extra warning: I'm rating this 16 and above again for some mild curse words.
Dreams in the Dark (281/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
Hollywood was never an entirely safe place, public disaster lurking around every corner; Hedda's breed alone made that certain. Still, where he currently lived, disaster could be far more permanently damaging; his sigh went deep. But such calamity would *not* stop him from returning to his wife.
This was Michael's continuing determination--his relief in his basic well-being only a reflection of the fact. It had been a little over a week since Hedda's surprise visit to his wife, since Madeline's attempt to cause a scandal--but he had no idea of such facts just yet. He was far too preoccupied with dangers of his own.
It was these perils which had nearly destroyed him yesterday, only Sikes' quick thinking keeping himself and his companions from certain death. The plane they had been training in had had serious engine trouble, had damn near started to spin, to take them down toward their doom. But Henry's reflexes were quick, his skills undeniable. Somehow, he had held rigid control, had pulled a crash landing out of nowhere. They were all a little banged up--Henry worst of all, the pilot still in the infirmary with some seriously bruised ribs--but they were alive. And it was this fact alone which he would thank the man for forever.
It would have been difficult to describe the unit's reaction to this incident fully, the fear and shock running deep. Still, if anything, it had brought them all a far more intense focus than they had ever had before. Suddenly, this was no longer simply training, could no longer be seen as a game. It was real, its potential consequences deadly serious. It was only with the luck of providence--and Sikes' skill--that any of them were still alive.
They had all been struck hard by this truth, every one of the airmen far more a soldier than he had been the day before. But, for Michael, it had been harder still. Few of the others--none of those in his immediate training group--had wives or children, had more than casual sweethearts to return home to. Few of them, then, could be half so focused on survival as he.
This had always been most of Michael's intentions here, his determination quite fixed. But yesterday had brought this truth home much more palpably. And it wasn't one he intended to ignore for a second.
The incident had slightly changed the man's immediate focus, then. Before, he had spent nearly all his free time concentrating solely on thoughts of his wife, on his fears over her: that she might be harmed in his absence, that she might forget about him, that he might lose her in any way. Now, at least half of his concern was on simple survival; his gaze burned. No matter what the obstacles, he had no intention of dying before he returned.
He was keeping this desire very close in his heart, was praying that it would be possible. Yesterday, there had been that dreadful moment--the one when the engine was dying, right before it seemed like they would lose control. He had nearly seen it: the plane spinning toward the ground in a nosedive, no time left to escape or eject--nothing to do but wait for the crash. There wouldn't even have been enough of his body left to return to her; the shudder shook him. But she and his child deserved much more than that.
It was this truth which made him so desperately intent, this which held him. There had even been a moment yesterday, when he had nearly felt guilty at his betrayal--the questions tormenting him. What kind of fool--what kind of monster--abandoned his pregnant wife just to go play war, to learn how to kill and destroy? The thought appalled him, still. But it didn't make his situation any better to realize that he was this very type of man.
There might well have been many reasons for his departure--none of them really his--but that didn't change his feelings. More than anything, he wanted to be back with her--visions of all the truths of the last Great War playing constantly through his mind. There was just no damn point in suffering for months in a muddy trench, only to be told that his unit hadn't lost enough men--that they clearly weren't trying hard enough; thus was the logic of war. Perhaps he was an airman, might be spared such an outcome, but he feared it, all the same. If he died now, he would only be a statistic, one marked: Killed in Training. His head shook, heart thumping. But that was a fate which he wasn't willing to face.
He had been focusing ever since on how to survive this war, on what ways might best get him out of here unharmed. Mostly, those had centered around doing his job and making friends with his comrades. After all, it might be they alone who would be the difference between life and death.
He had been doing his best ever since to focus here, had become even friendlier with his bunkmates. Even with Ackerman, he was maintaining a detached sort of detente. Sikes' bravery and skill the other day had taught him his lesson. If he could, he would get them all out of here alive. That was part of the indoctrination he was supposed to be receiving, anyway.
This, at least, was what he believed, was the sort of stuff they made war movies about. To those in control of the war, such bravado made nice copy for the papers, worked well for propaganda--but wasn't strictly necessary. Every war needed its bodies. The point--as with so many games--was to make the other side lose more than it was willing to give.
This intention seemed quite difficult when faced with Hitler and his allies, but such thoughts weren't on Michael's mind--larger political concerns, even fears of what such a man's victory might lead to, rather meaningless to him now. He was only interested in cultivating a spirit among his colleagues which would assure that, if the time came, they would help him through; he took a deep breath, looking into the future. Then, he might be one step closer to being back with his wife.
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