Nothing Broken, Nothing Thrown by ShoshannaGold (Mature)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_steelphoenix_/]

Fandom: GENERATION KILL
Pairing: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Length: 9337
Author on LJ: shoshannagold

Author Website:shoshannagold, AO3

Why this must be read:

We're heading back to Brad/Ray for this one - but their relationship isn't the focus of this story. The Generation Kill fandom is really good at dealing with the difficult stuff, and this fic - dealing with spousal abuse - is one of the best. It handles this hard topic with grace, dignity and realism.

This fic focuses on what happens when action-oriented BAMFs like Brad and Ray - guys who care, despite/because of all their experiences - come across someone who is being abused. Needless to say, they do something, and do it well. The female OC - the abused wife of one of Brad's Marines - is both smart and relatable, and the way that Brad interacts with her is both realistic and very in-character. She's one of my favourite fem!OCs. Both Brad and Ray's voices are spot on, and their established relationship (and its strength and constancy) is a great balancing force with the hard issues dealt with here.

"It is hot," he said agreeably. "I don't know if you remember, ma'am, but we've met before, at Camp Margarita's Memorial Day picnic. You were there with your husband, I think." The picnic had been two days after Brad had officially returned to duty at Pendleton, his two year exchange with the RM complete. It had been rife with new Marines and their families, and Brad's ability to recall names and faces had been put to the test. Good to know he still had it.

She stepped back, and looked even more shaken than she had while when the water slipped. "You know Jeff?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's in my company."

She took a breath, and Brad was impressed as she shook off whatever had shocked her a moment before. She stepped forward and offered her hand, and looked at him more closely. "Gunnery Sergeant Colbert, right? I'm so sorry about this, sir; I'm not usually this much of a mess."

"You're not in my command, Mrs. Stowe. Call me Brad," he said, shaking her hand. Her grip was soft, and he thought she might have winced when he took her hand but the dark glasses that covered most of her face made it hard to see her expression.

She smiled and nodded. "Brad, it's nice to see you again. And please, call me Marlie."

"It's a pleasure to run into you again, Marlie." He nodded at the other two water bottles in her grocery carriage. "Why don't I help you get those stowed?"

"I'd very much appreciate that," she said. She lifted her arm to wipe sweat from her forehead, and Brad was grateful for the aviator shades that hid his own eyes, because he couldn't help the wince as her sleeve fell back to her elbow. It was barely for an second, as she pulled it back down reflexively, but she was exposed long enough for him to see that her arm was covered with ugly bruises, mottling black and green and purple.

Some of them were large, like she'd been punched on the back of her arm and Brad realized with a sickened lurch in his gut that she probably got them as she had lifted her arms to protect her face. Her defensive maneuvers had failed, he noted as he casually took off his own sunglasses to rub his eyes. Without their shade, he could better see through her dark lenses. Both of her eyes were black and swollen.

He slipped his glasses back on and smiled at her, picking up another jug of water. "We'll get you all squared away, Marlie."

Nothing Broken, Nothing Thrown

Comments

[dine.livejournal.com]

this is such an awesome story - I'm so glad you rec'd it, as it's one I reread fairly regularly.