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crack_van2008-10-04 05:06 pm
xenokattz.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2008-10-04 05:06 pm
Entry tags:
Payback by The Die Hard (Mature)
Fandom: SMALLVILLE
Characters: Whitney Ford
Length: 5500
Author on LJ: --
Author Website: FF.net account
Why this must be read:
When I started watching Smallville, I pegged Whitney Ford as "the bad guy"-- y'know, the typical asshole jock, the obstacle to The Hero getting the Girl. Whitney wasn't that one-dimensional villain, however. Sure, he was a prick at times but what teenager isn't an occasional tool especially one who, from all indications, had little more than the possibility of being a football player to look forward to? Whitney genuinely cared for Lana, turned down a football scholarship to take over the family hardware store, and went into the Marines with as much heroic intention as Clark would in the future. One could even argue that Whitney was one Clark's inspirations when he finally puts on his colours.
The Die Hard did not like Whitney's death so she wrote this fic where Whitney survived albeit scarred. Extremely scarred. The handsome, idealistic Marine became a wheel-chair bound veteran, shafted by the VA, embittered by a world that doesn't even acknowledge his existence. Except for Superman. It's both heartbreaking and uplifting, a fitting story for Whitney who wasn't-quite-The-Jock, who would have probably grown up to be a pretty swell guy.
"Goddamn," the spotter muttered, shoving the bits and pieces of what used to be two whole strong human beings into the helo. "Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn... Only two, but at least two... You gotta make it, guys, you just gotta..."
The pilot was already yelling for medical into his mic, while wrenching the helo into the air on a near-Brownian-motion course that had earned the sullenly reluctant aircraft the nickname of "slick." The gunner spared a glance at the two pieces of long-pig hamburger that were still, incredibly, pumping blood. "Their fucking dog tags are gone," he hollered.
"Just fucking pray they ain't allergic to anything," the spotter hollered back, his hands moving through the pitiful excuse for a medical kit with the professional precision and blinding speed of long bitter practice.
The hastily-coded medic station nurse charged under the spinning blades before the slick reached the ground, and added his own variety of profanity to the assessment. "Looks like the fucking big guy tried to fucking play hero and took the whole goddamn blast right in the face. Shit fuck! Get 'em on the goddamn sheets, we gotta get an IV. Any a you guys O positive? We need blood, dammit, saline won't cut it." The pilot volunteered and was turned down; he needed to be able to fly again on a moment's notice. The spotter clenched his fist and held out an arm without a word. The gunner was A positive, the nurse accepted him, with a generic curse. The condition these two were in, reaction was the least of their worries.
Eight long hours filled with horror and screams -- there was little left in the way of anesthetics, and both of the Marines had come partially to during surgery -- and blood. The nurse finally collapsed on the plastic tent floor. "They'll live," he told the pilot and gunner brokenly, when they got back from another sweep. "Depending on your definition of living." He buried his face in his blood-soaked hands and cried red tears.
Payback
Characters: Whitney Ford
Length: 5500
Author on LJ: --
Author Website: FF.net account
Why this must be read:
When I started watching Smallville, I pegged Whitney Ford as "the bad guy"-- y'know, the typical asshole jock, the obstacle to The Hero getting the Girl. Whitney wasn't that one-dimensional villain, however. Sure, he was a prick at times but what teenager isn't an occasional tool especially one who, from all indications, had little more than the possibility of being a football player to look forward to? Whitney genuinely cared for Lana, turned down a football scholarship to take over the family hardware store, and went into the Marines with as much heroic intention as Clark would in the future. One could even argue that Whitney was one Clark's inspirations when he finally puts on his colours.
The Die Hard did not like Whitney's death so she wrote this fic where Whitney survived albeit scarred. Extremely scarred. The handsome, idealistic Marine became a wheel-chair bound veteran, shafted by the VA, embittered by a world that doesn't even acknowledge his existence. Except for Superman. It's both heartbreaking and uplifting, a fitting story for Whitney who wasn't-quite-The-Jock, who would have probably grown up to be a pretty swell guy.
"Goddamn," the spotter muttered, shoving the bits and pieces of what used to be two whole strong human beings into the helo. "Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn... Only two, but at least two... You gotta make it, guys, you just gotta..."
The pilot was already yelling for medical into his mic, while wrenching the helo into the air on a near-Brownian-motion course that had earned the sullenly reluctant aircraft the nickname of "slick." The gunner spared a glance at the two pieces of long-pig hamburger that were still, incredibly, pumping blood. "Their fucking dog tags are gone," he hollered.
"Just fucking pray they ain't allergic to anything," the spotter hollered back, his hands moving through the pitiful excuse for a medical kit with the professional precision and blinding speed of long bitter practice.
The hastily-coded medic station nurse charged under the spinning blades before the slick reached the ground, and added his own variety of profanity to the assessment. "Looks like the fucking big guy tried to fucking play hero and took the whole goddamn blast right in the face. Shit fuck! Get 'em on the goddamn sheets, we gotta get an IV. Any a you guys O positive? We need blood, dammit, saline won't cut it." The pilot volunteered and was turned down; he needed to be able to fly again on a moment's notice. The spotter clenched his fist and held out an arm without a word. The gunner was A positive, the nurse accepted him, with a generic curse. The condition these two were in, reaction was the least of their worries.
Eight long hours filled with horror and screams -- there was little left in the way of anesthetics, and both of the Marines had come partially to during surgery -- and blood. The nurse finally collapsed on the plastic tent floor. "They'll live," he told the pilot and gunner brokenly, when they got back from another sweep. "Depending on your definition of living." He buried his face in his blood-soaked hands and cried red tears.
Payback