╔═══════════════════════════════════════════╗
Don't idolize spies. They lie for a living.
╚═══════════════════════════════════════════╝
Fandom: Red Versus Blue
Character: Agent Connecticut
Ship: N/A
Rating: T
Word Count: 311
Notes: Spies make me think of two things these days, Connie and James Bond.
Well Worn
When she was eight the Covvie attacked her home. There were people and there was screaming and she remembered so much blood. There had been soldiers and huge men in suits of armor with pieces almost as big as her. One of the soldiers had grabbed her out from under the table and carried her away kicking and screaming and the only thing she had been able to grab as he carried her, tears in her eyes, was a book.
Not her doll. Not a picture. Not a scrap of cloth. Not even a lock of hair that she thinks she remembers a vibrant red from the body that had been cold while it was wrapped around her.
Even now she kept it with her. The language was old, stilted really, but what would one expect of prose back from the twentieth century? Every few days she would sit down and read it from cover to cover just to remind herself.
She always wondered if it was her mother’s, or her father’s, or maybe she had or has a sibling out there that she didn’t remember. Which of them had loved spy novels enough to go far enough back to read James Bond? Who had loved it?
Maybe, she couldn’t help but think so many nights as she rested on her bunk, she shouldn’t have read it. Her fingers brushed over the well worn binding of the thing under her pillow. Things like that book could change you. Had changed her. Would never stop changing her.
A light went on in the corner. A brief flashing light that was the precursor to her alarm.
She had to get up. Had to eat. Had to get ready. They were heading into the scrapyard to catch the ‘Insurrectionists’ today.
Another day of the same old lies.
She wished she had grabbed something else
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
