Command Me To Be Well [Completed]

14 - Queen and country

We don't sleep much. There's no time to sleep.

We don't talk much either. It's not necessary. You don't tell funny childhood stories when the future you spend together is restricted to a few hours. And you don't make promises either. But we touch a lot. That's what we've got.

The morning arrives too fast. There's no way to trick the first rays of the sun. We have to trick ourselves to accept that we have to go. To do so, we set up some rules.

First. We don't get emotional. That's easy. We're both professionals.

Second. We part ways when we step out the door. Easy too. And absolutely necessary.

Third. We don't say goodbye. Because that would probably lead to breaching point one.

Easy.

We dress up without looking at each other. He opens the door. We step out. We turn our backs on each other. We take a few steps. Then we turn back at the same moment, he takes me in his arms, and we kiss until we're both breathless.

"You were right," I tell him, "it led to pain."

"Yeah," he sighs. "But I hope it will keep you from fading."

"If this can't, nothing can," I admit.

"Don't cry," he instructs me, in his best supreme commander tone.

"I don't." I shrug. "It will be an honor to guide you to your death."

He almost says something, but then he just shakes his head.

"We're not very good at sticking to the rules today," he mutters finally, caressing my face.

"True," I agree. "I'm never very good at it, though."

"I noticed." He grins. "Okay. Now let's go. Everybody's waiting for us."

"It's not very fitting," I protest.

"Fitting? For what?"

"For famous last words." I shrug.

"Please, stop it."

"Slightly better, but still not quite there."

He sighs, shaking his head. Then he leans closer, and whispers it to my ears. Then he grabs my shoulders, turns me around with an irresistible force, and even gives me a small push, to make me move.

I don't look back. I march directly to the control room.

Timur is already there, waiting for me. I slump down on the chair and smile at him, to cover my sadness. He smiles back. He doesn't even try to cover it. No wonder. I know already what Duncan Auberon means to him. A little more than a commander he'd die for, and a little less than a son. I'm not sure of the little less part, though.

"I'm ready," I tell him.

"I'm ready too, Madame. Everyone is."

The hangar is full of people again. They are getting ready to go.

The faces are tense. You can feel the uneasiness in the air.

They all have said their goodbyes. Their mind is set on the task they are facing. And the fate that goes with it, probably.

Timur sees it too. He turns the microphone on with a casual move and clears his throat.

"So, here we go again," he says. "It's a beautiful morning, my little birds, isn't it?"

Some faint smiles are appearing on the faces under us. They've probably heard this from him a hundred times already.

"You don't need to worry," he goes on, "we have the Madame Seer here, and she looks positively grounded this morning. So I foresee a swift flight for today, birdies."