So i decided to cosplay Sniper!Lance instead of generic 100% cannon Lance since I’m…really weak for the sniper lance thing. So I decided to design the gun! I’m probably gonna stick with this design unless you guys have feedback ;v; (which i would love to hear omg…..) I probably won’t be making this until the end of october tbh.
Scout’s eyes snapped open as the sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Ragged breaths shuddered from his chest as the realization that he was here, in 2Fort, in relative safety, slowly clawed its way back into his sleep addled mind. He wasn’t back there, he wasn’t in danger, and that was a long time ago. There was a dull pain in his hands and he looked down to see his nails digging into his palms. Angry red marks remained in the pale skin as he unclenched his fists, his knuckles still white in terror.
The word was muttered into the darkness as he dropped his head into his hands and felt the dampness at the corners of his eyes as another surge of emotion welled up inside. This was stupid. He was supposed to be over this! He was a mercenary, for fuck’s sake! He shouldn’t be feeling this.
Swallowing, he pushed everything back down as he lay back in bed and closed his eyes, only to immediately open them again. He couldn’t go back to sleep. The echos of his nightmare still flashed behind his eyelids, irrationally tormenting his now-waking mind. His sheets were damp with sweat from his panic causing his t-shirt clung to his skin, and suddenly the four walls of his bedroom felt suffocating. Night was the only time when the base was ever quiet, but even then it still felt alive. Steam constantly whispered through pipes, heating water, turning the generator, and making sure that it could burst back to life any any moment. With his own thoughts pounding his his brain, it was just too much. He needed to get outside, to be anywhere but here. Throwing back the covers, he swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the door.
His bare feet padded lightly through the halls. He felt every knot in the rough hewn wood of the dormitory wing, and relished the cool smoothness of the kitchen as he stepped through the back door and out into the night air. The desert was hot during the day, but the night brought a coolness that still surprised him, even after all these years. He shivered as the hot sweat that still clung to his skin cooled and caused his skin to prickle. It was a welcome distraction.
The concrete path out back soon changed into hard packed earth that was littered with pebbles and twigs that bit into his bare feet, although the pain was inconsequential. The feeling, like that of the cool air against his skin, was a welcome sensation that drew him from the shadow of his dream.
Above his head was a full moon and a galaxy full of stars that lit the night. It was enough light to walk by, and his feet kept going of their own accord. It was only when he finally found himself in front of the camper’s door that he had second thoughts. His destination hadn’t been a conscious decision, but he wasn’t entirely surprised.
But what would Sniper say to Scout at his door in the middle of the night?
“You’re up late.”
Scout spun around to see Sniper standing behind him. Still fully clothed, he’d been out on a late night excursion of some sort. His rifle was over his shoulder, and a flashlight hung unused on his belt as the bushman made his way, just as Scout had, by the light of the moon.
“You too.” There was a slight tremor to his voice, and Scout clenched his teeth as he saw the slight tilt of Sniper’s head as the other man heard it as clear as day. The downside to falling in with a man whose entire job depended on observing. He could see the wheels turning in Sniper’s head, taking in his appearance; no shoes, messy hair, and only in a t-shirt and boxers.
Scout looked away as embarrassment flushed across his face, but the slight downward turn of Sniper’s mouth meant that he didn’t really need to answer.
“We’ve all got our bogieman, Roo.” Scout heard Sniper murmur as he felt a hand come to rest between his shoulders, and another shiver ran through him as the sweat dampened fabric pressed against his skin. “You wanna tell me about it?” He shook his head. It wasn’t that he was afraid, he was just tired. Sun chapped lips pressed themselves into his hair.
A long arm reached past Scout as Sniper opened the camper door and the hand against his shoulders steered him inside. Scout didn’t protest, but did stick close to the pillar of calm that stayed close behind him. A gentle hand pushed him towards the bunk at the back and he climbed in obediently, flopping down amongst the unmade blankets. He watched as Sniper carefully stowed away his gear with more care than he gave his clothes, which were tossed carelessly on the floor to no doubt be reworn in the morning.
Sniper climbed up on the bunk and settled himself down next to Scout. There was a light tug and Scout crawled up to lay his head on Sniper’s chest. The smell of dirt, sweat, smoke, and black coffee filled his nose, mixing to make a scent that was unique to the man he was laying on. Scout’s eyelids started to droop. He could feel himself tense, torn between desperately wanting to sleep and being terrified of doing so, when an arm wrapped around him and started rubbing small circles across his back.
“You gonna go to sleep?” This time his words trailed off into a yawn.
There was a hum from above him as Sniper’s hand wound itself in his tussled hair. “Yeah. Eventually.”
Sniper’s hand stroked his hair fondly, continuing as Scout felt himself relax. It was only then that he let his eyes slip shut, and finally falling asleep as he listened to the heart that beat steadily beneath him.