Title:
Brass Ammo
Author:
Zenia
Pairings:
Rick/AJ
Summary: Rick has to deal with his time in Viet
Nam. AJ tries to
help
Rating:
NC-17
Series/Sequel:
Yes, Part eleven of the “Tarnished Metal” series
Email:
ztovarich@yahoo.com
Disclaimer:
They’re not mine, never will be.
Please don't sue.
Feedback:
Pretty please with sugar on top.
Warnings:
Incest and sex between two men.
Notes: This story takes place right after the S&S episode, “I thought the War was Over.”
In that wonderfully crafted episode a gang kills a friend who had saved Rick’s life in Viet Nam. Rick while searching for the man’s killer, suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder due to the war. I don’t do the episode justice in these notes. I suggest that everyone find a copy of this episode and watch it. It’s heart wrenching.
Brass Ammo
By Zenia
Rick though that after saving his brother, Town, and Mr. Brennan he would feel better about it all. He found Ray’s killer and now he would come to justice, he should be happy. But he was exhausted and sad. He sat heavily on the bed and looked around at the walls of hospital room. He realized that he hated the VA. Rick wanted desperately to go home but he knew he needed help. That was obvious when he had snapped at AJ and almost hit his mother.
Rick heard the sound of the door opening. He looked up and saw Jean come in hesitantly.
“Hello Rick, I thought you could use some company.” She sat down on the bed and put her hand on his knee. “Are you all right?”
“I…I don’t know.” He sighed. “About what you told us, during our group session, about your brother… I’m sorry. I know—I have a little brother too.”
“I still have nightmares about seeing him in that hospital with no legs. He was the last person I expected to see come through that place. Only one of the many victims I saw in the war.” Tears flooded her eyes.
Rick touched her cheek. “You want to talk about it?”
Jean shook her head. “Do you?”
“I—I think so.” He pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture of AJ. “That’s my brother, Andrew Jackson Simon. He’s five years younger than I am. Our dad, he died when I was ten. I took care AJ. We were closer than any two brothers I’ve ever known. AJ, he’s the most naïve person you’ll ever meet. He had just turned eighteen when I left. He cried when I told him I joined up with the Marines. He didn’t understand.”
“Why did you join?”
Rick laughed. “I don’t know. I thought I’d be doing some good. I had been drifting for so long. AJ was going off to college in the fall. I wanted him and my mom to be proud of me. I never went to college. Hell I barely made it out of high school. Your brother, is he all right?”
“Jamie, his name’s Jamie. He learned to adapt. He’s married now, has two children, a boy and a girl.” She smiled, her eyes taking on a far away look before settle back on Rick. “Is your brother married?”
“Naw, but not for lack of trying. We’re private investigators, that doesn’t lend itself to marriage.”
“That’s a dangerous job.”
“We watch each others’ back.” He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I have nightmares about him. I’m in the damn jungles and there’s a dead body face down in the mud. I turn it over and it’s AJ. The first few months I was in Viet Nam, I stopped and stared every time I saw a blond headed kid. And I thanked God every night that he far away from that hell.”
“You were lucky.” She was crying again, like she had during therapy.
“I’m sorry.” Rick sat up and hugged her, letting her cry on his shoulder. “I didn’t—”
“You have no reason to be sorry. You’re brother was one of the lucky ones. So are you,” she whispered.
“Ah Jean, I know. We just wanna protect them, don’t we? Sometimes it’s just so damned hard to protect them. Sometimes it feels like the war was the only real thing that existed. When I came home I kept expecting to—Every time a car would backfire, I’d flinch. It was unreal.”
“Death became the only reality. The screams, the smell of death and decaying flesh.” Jean pulled away and wiped her eyes. “We can’t always protect our loved ones. We can only try. But I know what you mean about coming home, about the unreality of it all. I still feel that way sometimes.”
“Yeah, me too. I just want it to stop Jean. How do we make it stop?”
She looked at him. “Hold on to the ones we love. Hold on and never let go.”
Rick nodded.
“Well, I should go. I’m meeting my brother for dinner tonight.” She stood up. “Will you be all right?”
“Maybe I’ll go visit my brother tonight too.”
Jean touched he cheek and smiled.
**********
He rang AJ’s bell insistently until he heard his brother’s voice say loudly that he was coming. There was a look of surprise on his brother’s face when he got the door opened. He looked beautiful, barefoot, slacks rumpled, dirty shirt open at the neck.
“Rick. What—”
Rick shoved him back into the house, shutting the door with his foot. “Are you alone.”
“Yes—” That was as far as he got.
Rick grabbed his hair and pulled him forward into a kiss. Their teeth clacked together with a jarring force. AJ made a sound of protest but Rick swallowed it up with the ferocity of his mouth. He devoured him, biting AJ’s lips, sucking his tongue, scraping it with his teeth. He wanted to make AJ real. He needed to hold on.
With his foot, he trip his brother so that the fell onto his back. He followed, biting and kissing AJ’s neck.
AJ struggled underneath him. “Rick, stop. Please.”
Rick held his arms down and nipped at AJ’s mouth to stop the words. When AJ calmed he ripped open his brother’s shirt and made his way down his chest and stomach. He bit the flesh, sucking on the warmth. Rick could taste sweat, and something saltier. His tears, he realized. He was crying.
“Rick, what’s wrong. Rick?” AJ grabbed his hair, trying to pull him up.
“No,” he sobbed, “no, I have to hold on. I have to.”
Like AJ’s shirt he torn open his slacks and shucked them down. He sucked at AJ’s thighs, parting them with clenching fingers. Then he took AJ into his mouth, tasting and tasting. He knew that he could hold on to reality if he could just do this, if he could make AJ come.
He sucked so hard it must have hurt AJ a little. He was grasping his brother’s hips, bobbing his head up and down.
AJ was thrusting into his mouth frantically. So frantically that Rick began to gag. He let it happen, just tried to remember to breathe through his nose every once and awhile. Then his brother came, flooding into his mouth. Rick swallowed, tasting reality, holding on the only way he could. It was the only way he could.
He laid his head against stomach and cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just couldn’t AJ. I couldn’t and I needed you to stay real. I need to stay real. Promise this is real.”
AJ stroked his head and made shushing sounds. His voice was thick with tears when he spoke. “It’s real Rick. This is real. I promise this is real. Remember, I said we could make it real. It is. It is.”
“Just for tonight.” He moved up to kiss AJ’s bruised mouth. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. I was just surprised.” AJ smiled.
“I have nightmares about you, about you and Viet Nam.”
His brother looked stunned again. “Do you want to stay tonight?”
He nodded. “Just to know you’re here. That’s all. To know you’re here.”
AJ stood up and pulled Rick to his feet. “Come on.”
Rick frowned at the bruises and marks on his brother’s body.
“Don’t worry about it Rick. You didn’t hurt me.”
He didn’t think that was completely true. They had hurt each other enough over the years. But it wasn’t the time or place to be bringing that up.
That night he lay nestled against AJ’s side, feeling his brother’s heart against his palm. This was his anchor to reality, to a place beyond the searing hot bullets, the foot rot, and the death. Here with AJ, whether in his arms or just in his presence, this was his anchor to all that was good.
