A bad, bad person...a bad, bad person (Logan/Open)

[Stephen Colly]

Location: West Sussex, England – Chichester, West Sussex
Weather: Low rain clouds suggest rain any time soon
Time: 19:00hours.

Low clouds hung over the country town of Chichester, West Sussex. The town had stood for years; it was extremely old with architecture going back to the middle ages. The old cathedral which was in the middle of the town sounded every hour. And that bell was the bell that Stephen heard as he stood a few yards away from the door that constantly opened and closed that led inside to the pub.

The boy had been walking around in a dream for the past few days. The case of Edward McMillan was being re-opened…re-opened…but that dream could easily turn into a nightmare, a very bad nightmare.

The fact was, if people were now looking for Edward then Edward could be in danger of being found and killed…killed because of Stephen…but he had wanted to see Edward so badly, he loved the man for Christ’s sake and he wanted to see him again but when? Where? How…?

He had even created a habit of smoking from Edward, he had never liked the stuff before he had met Edward but now he couldn’t stop smoking the cancer stick. He pulled the said cancer stick pack from his pocket, produced one and stuck it into his mouth. He lit it dully and sucked hard on it, breathing in all the smoke he could muster and then letting the smoke fade away and out of his mouth. That movement caused him to start a series of violent coughing as he chocked on the smoke.

It took his several seconds to stop his coughing and when he hard, he lent against the wall, tears in his eyes. Drops of rain began to fall on to his nose and then run down his face to his neck.

Drop….drop….drop….drop….drop.drop.drop.

The heavens opened and water thundered down, a rumble of thunder was heard over head. Stephen stared up at the sky, not caring about his uniform now soaking him to the skin. Somewhere, Edward was looking up at the sky and seeing the clouds rush by…tears fell down his face, mixing with the rain. The cigarette had by now gone out and Stephen just crumbled onto the wet ground, pulling his knees up close to his chest and staring into his lap. He hated life….he hated it. He was a bad person, a very bad person for effectively handing Edward over to the Allies to be shot…effectively if they found him that was….

[logancastle]

Ah, Chichester. Such a wonderfully dull place. At least it was easy on the eyes. The beautiful medieval architecture in the buildings was pleasing, and Regimental Sergeant Major Logan Castle had sent postcards from the small corner shop back to his elderly Mother and Father.

The small hotel room that Logan was staying in was gloomy, its green and cream walls darkened with wear from decades of patrons. The only window in the room was smudged with visions of the dark clouds that seemed to always plague Britain's skies, ready to spew rain onto the war-torn country at any minute. A bed was shoved up against one of the walls, the comforter's flowered pattern blending with the paint on the walls. The small desk were Logan sat was his main center of the room, laden with papers, radios, and spare clips for his Lee Enfield. The rifle itself was leaning against a corner, its sling limp and bolt open. His helmet lay on his bed, along with his heavy equipment belt.

Logan leafed through several files for the soldiers under his command, their basic training photographs staring up at his slightly weathered face. He stopped at the file for Private Julius Everett, a transfer from the SAS. His handsome young face was framed by the Special Air Service cap on his dark brown hair, a massive amount of information typed out by a typewriter below the photo. Logan sighed and tossed the papers aside, stretching out his legs underneath the desk. No more work. A nice pint of beer would be good. He checked his watch. 1900 hours. More than enough time to work his way to the local pub he had seen on his taxi ride into the town. He stood up just as rain started pattering at his window, and he rolled down his sleeves and grabbed the warm green wool uniform coat and jeep cap to protect him from the rain.

Logan left his room, walking down the hall into the lobby were a few people were sitting, reading the newspaper and other leisurely tasks. He nodded to the Concierge to let him know he was leaving, and then headed out the door into the lazy drizzle of rain. Logan paused for a moment, searching his mind for were the pub was, and then began to walk down the road to his left. He walked briskly, more for his eagerness for a glass of alcohol than the rain. As he turned a corner he saw the small, squat building that served as the town pub. He smiled at the thought of a beer, maybe even a few small bar sausages.

Logan took in the sites of the street as he walked down it, a church, some houses, a young man huddled against the sidewalk. He paused for a moment, thinking about the somber man and if he should interfere. His conscious said comfort to boy, but his stomach said dodge the wanker and continue to the pub. Logan's good side got the better of him, and he turned back around and crouched down next to the man. He just knelt there for a moment, looking up at the dark sky with his brown eyes. He then looked back at the boy and placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Weather's not exactly perfect to be sobbin' out here, eh? How about 'ye come with me to the pub and I buy you a nice beer? Then you tell me whats botherin' ya so much, lad?"

[Stephen Colly]

A shadow fell across Stephen, he looked up suddenly into the rain and saw that the shadow was a man and that man was kneeling down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder in a comforting way.

"Weather's not exactly perfect to be sobbin' out here, eh? How about 'ye come with me to the pub and I buy you a nice beer? Then you tell me whats botherin' ya so much, lad?"

Stephen bit his lip, realizing how stupid he looked, sobbing in the rain for no obvious reason. He shrugged his shoulders, looking over at the man whose face he could just see in the light from the pub windows and door.

”Y-Yeah, I’d like that.” Stephen mumbled, keeping hold of the man as he got slowly to his feet, shaking slightly and wiped his nose, ”Thanks.” he muttered softly as he kept hold of the man, his hands and arms shaking slightly. Water was covering his hair and face and uniform as he stumbled over with the man towards the door.

”I’m not even drunk yet!” he commented as he pushed open the door with one hand into the lighted room.

OOC – Sorry its so short!

[logancastle]

The young man looked up at the Logan for a moment and then bit his lip, looking rather embarressed. The older man thought about saying something for a moment, but then thought against it as the boy replied. "Y-Yeah, I'd like that." Logan gave a quick, friendly smile before helping the young man to to his feet.

For the first time, the Regimental Sergeant Major realized that the skinny young man was wearing a British uniform. Two straw-colored chevrons were stitched on his sleeve. "You in the army lad?" Logan asked as he led him slowly to the pub.

The pair reached the squat wooden building a few moments later. ”I’m not even drunk yet!” The Corporal joked as he opened the up door and Logan chuckled. He walked them over to a long bar along the wall that contained every alcohol you could think of. He helped the soldier onto a stool and sat on one himself, waving a chubby waiter in a dirty apron over. "I'll have some, hmm, whisky, a glass. Drinkin' hard tonight. And whatever this lad wants, on my tab." As the waiter waddled off for their drinks, Logan turned to the Corporal.

"So, whats your name? Gettin' a bit odd just callin' ya lad."

OOC: Sorry, mines even shorter!

[Stephen Colly]

The man smiled a friendly smile towards Stephen who returned it gladly as he waited for the man to speak. ”Army? Yes.” he wasn’t going to say “Yes, unfortunately am in the army” because he didn’t want to sound rather unpatriotic and the man in front of him may love the army or something and find it very bad and criticizing…

They now entered the pub and the man led him over to the bar, for once the place was quiet empty, nothing really was happening. Stephen guessed that whoever would be here normally were out in France because of the big push that was being talked about and they needed troops over there not here in England. But there were still a few men trying to enjoy their last few days on English soil as most likely most would not come back to these shores.

The friendly man helped the young boy onto a stool and he rested his elbows on the wooden service, he could still feel the droplets of rain ebb down his back and neck and he rubbed his hair quickly with one hand. A waiter had approached and asked what they wanted, ”Same.” Stephen said to the waiter, jerking his head in Logan’s direction in answer to the drink.

The man now turned to Stephen;

“So whats your name? Gettin’ a bit odd just callin’ ya lad.”[/i]

Stephen chuckled slightly, ”Corporal Stephen Colly.” he smiled softly, sticking his hand out for the other man to shake, ”And yours?”