March 12, 2013
The sky outside was dark and cloudy, a light drizzle of liquid falling from the sky and peppering everything. A figure in Desert Digital MCCUU's with a tan ball-cap sporting an American flag patch walked up to the doors of a Veteran's Medical Clinic, the door opening as the glass shone and reflected whatever light made it though the clouds. The large male made his way across the tile floors, sand-colored boots producing light squeaks until the water was mostly gone from it's soles, only reduced to a bass-filled tapping sound as the man made his way through the empty halls.
Date: November 2002
Tik-taks and scratching would be heard again as Reddenson would write down the last of what Aubin told him, “That's the last of it unless you want to hear about the whole firefight, three dead in that vehicle and one other during the battle in Alpha Team, it was their medic, was quite a loss to them.” Aubin would finish, his eyes were just as soulless as the dead Marine's in his memory. Reddenson would nod, an uneasy look on his face, both from the imagery and the look in Aubin's eyes, “A-Aright then,” Reddenson would begin, “come back next week and we'll go event-by-event.” he'd say with a smile, but not getting one in return as Aubin went straight for the door. He never liked talking about those events, but this therapy bullshit was mandatory.
March 25, 2014
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