What Lies Behind the Lion’s Roar
A very short Lion one-shot
Note. So basically in this story, all the operators are all stationed at one large base with training facilities and such as well as a common room, kitchen, etc. Just a little bit of background to my thinking.
“-your fault!” the slightly shorter man snapped, storming into the room not far behind the taller. “If you hadn’t-”
“If I hadn’t what?” the taller growled, pivoting around to face the medic. “I couldn’t just put them all at risk!” The pair had stopped in the middle of the large, occupied, common room and were currently arguing face to face. Everyone else, however, only glanced at the pair due to the sheer number of times they’ve been in this exact situation. Every time the argument was the same.
“There was another way!” Doc snapped back, taking a step forward so he was only inches away from his opponent. “But you had to go and mess everything up! You got him killed!”
“Sometimes sacrifices are necessary-”
“Sacrifices?” Doc nearly screamed as he stepped forward once more to grip Olivier’s shirt tightly, pulling the other man in close. “Sacrifices are heroic, and you’re anything but! You got him killed! You got them all killed! Their blood is on your hands!” He rambled angrily as he roughly slammed his fellow Frenchman against the wall; the others then began to stare in shock. Things were getting physical.
“You don’t think I know that?” He roared loudly like the predator he was nicknamed after causing several people in the room flinched at the loudness of his voice. Olivier had rarely ever gotten that loud in one of their arguments before. “I live with the mistakes I’ve made every fucking day of my pitiful life!” He gave the medic a fairly rough shove. “And when I finally listen to Bertrand, when I finally begin to forgive myself, you all have to beat me back into my place and remind me how much of a fuck-up I am!” The normally arrogant man was beginning to shake, tremors evident in his hands. Everyone in the room could only watch. “I try so fucking hard-” He exclaims, the words getting caught in his throat as he began to pace. “So fucking hard to cooperate, to get along with everyone-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” He roared once more, whirling around to face the wide-eyed medic who had evidently never seen this side of the man before him. “I guarantee you were talking shit about me before I even arrived!” His voice was drowning in anguish as he began pacing once more, running his hands roughly through his hair and tugging. “I try so fucking hard but it’s never enough.” Olivier’s voice was down to a whisper, a sharp contrast to the volume and size it had been only a few seconds before. His cold eyes were glazed over, his nails began to rake down his forearm from the inside of his elbow to his wrist; red lines were frighteningly noticeable on his skin. “…so fucking hard…” he mumbled.
And with quick strides, he exited the room.
