#he said Speirs seems tough outside but soft inside

[pigeonlogan]

I just saw my younger brother, Andy, a straight cis guy in his early 20s, low-key fangirling over Speirs when watching him rush across Foy in episode 7.

#band of brothers #even before that epic scene happened #Andy was already asking me where was Speirs #and when r we going to see him again #and Andy totally gets it #he said Speirs seems tough outside but soft inside

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance is Blitzed (Part One)

When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initally thought. WARNINGS: you get poisoned and feel pretty shit, there are some potty words, but all in all pretty tame (FOR NOW).

This will probably be at least a two part-er, so let a sister know if you want to be tagged(?)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’d barely had a chance to get out of the building you’d been searching before you coughed so violently you fell to your knees, a horrible gasping sound tearing its way out of your throat before you even have a chance to scream for a medic.

You were dying. You had to be dying.

You’d found an ivory crushed tablet at the bottom of a footlocker you’d found inside of the bombed out general store the Nazi’s had been using as sleeping barracks, and instantly pinched some of it between your fingers for closer inspection, rubbing the chalky dust between your fingertips to see if it had the same texture as aspirin. 

It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to find medications and other rations in footlockers and other personal items during an inventory search, and most of the time you could easily figure out what it was and whether or not it was something Doc or someone else might need. 

But this tablet and it’s powder were unfamiliar (aspirin would’ve had a more obvious, sour odor that you would’ve clocked the minute you’d opened the footlocker’s lid), and when you brought it to your nose to sniff it more critically you instantly regretted it—the smell was chemical and harsh and it burned your nasal passage in a way you’d never experienced before. Your eyes had instantly watered and you’d exhaled sharply through your nostrils in a vain attempt to make the hurt go away.

The pain spread up your head and spiderwebbed into your brain. A bursting prickle of pain behind your eyes flared like a burning star, your face had begun feeling hot and your head was ringing. 

It’s too hot in here, I have to get out of here so I can breathe.

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes as you stumbled back out the way you had come, bumping heavily between the rough stone of the wall and your friends as you desperately tried to remember the way out. 

You felt sick to your stomach as your skin breaks out into a cool sweat. Panic was setting in, with your ability to breath compromised as well as your hearing beginning to go white.

“Y/n?” you think you hear Martin calling your name through the fog that is taking residence in your ear canals, and something is trying to pull your hands from your eyes. “Hey kiddo, what’s wrong? What’d you find—?”

“DON’T!” You blurt, opening your eyes and wishing you hadn't when the room begins to spin. You see the light of the doorway over Bull’s shoulder-Bull? When did he get here?- and you close your eyes and forget everything else except for forward and outside and I can't breathe….

“Hey!” Someone (Luz?) growls as you shove the shape of him out of the way, and you don’t think you’re making sense but you’re talking all the same.

Stop talking, you need air!

When your knees hit the hard ground you barely have a chance to catch yourself on your hands before you dry heave so hard you can feel the ache of it in your ribs. Your heart is beating too fast and hard in your chest and if you could feel your hands you’d use them to tear some of your layers away because you’re boiling alive and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Fuck, what happened—WHAT HAPPENED?!”

With a great deal of effort you crack your eyes open again and spot Ron Speirs’ signature glare coming your way, shucking off his vest and bag without breaking stride as he neared. You’re aware of Martin and Bull by your sides, but you can’t seem to figure out what they’re saying.

Why is no one helping me? Can’t they see I’m dying?

“Don’t touch the tab- cough cough….the footlocker….!” you try again, tasting blood in your mouth after you released another hacking cough, and you’re dimly aware of Bull pulling your hat off of your head and sigh at the blissful chill of fresh air on your clammy skin.

“We got it, no one’s gonna touch it, y/n—” he murmurs somewhere to your left, and you think you nod in understanding but you can’t be sure/

“What’s happening?” Ron snapped, his rough hands grabbing your face and tilting it up so he could look at it. “Where does it hurt, y/n—?”

“I can’t breathe! It's so hard to breathe— Fuck, i think my brain is melting…”

“Your brain?” his voice is lower in volume now, yet your head still throbs as if he were shouting. Your head is thudding in time with your heartbeat, and you don't realize you’ve been crying until his thumbs brush away from the tears clouding your vision.

A tremble runs through your body and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world tilts from side to side unreliably. 

His rough hands are abruptly snatched back, but you can’t open your eyes to keep track of where they have gone. 

Suddenly, a set of arms hook under your knees and shoulders and you're lifted from the ground, your head reeling.

“Don’t!” she gasps as the person carrying her begins to quickly walk back the way you’d seen that Speirs had come from. “I’ll get sick on you—!“

“Then get sick on me. It’s not the worst thing to happen to this coat.” Ron says matter-of-factly, making his grip on you painfully tight as he begins barking orders at people around you.

“Ron—” you try again, but your body spasms in his arms as the pain in your head crests to new heights. “Oh, God, I think I’m dying—”

“Shut up.” He hisses, and you think you hear a stain of panic in his command. “Just shut up and try to stay awake”

You sob as you lean your head against his shoulder, your bones too big for your body and your skin aching.

The next time you blink Roe is suddenly there, and your mouth is so dry your tongue creaks as it moves in your mouth. 

You’ve been set on a lumpy mattress somewhere and Ron, Nix, Bull, and Roe are standing around you and talking amongst each other too quickly for you to catch. 

By some miracle you are able to shove Roe away from your side just in time to avoid your vomit as you lean over the side of the bed and throw up painfully onto the ground where his feet had just been.

Your head is so foggy now, and everything hurts so badly you wish that you would just die and be done with the whole thing.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up about that?” you hear Ron chide, and hands are smoothing your hair off of your face and neck with a gentleness you didn’t expect from someone so rough. “You heard the Doc, didn’t you?”

You shake your head because you honestly had no idea what Eugene may have said (because up until recently you hadn’t even known he’d been there), letting another set of hands push your shoulders back until you were laying on the mattress again. 

You felt Roe rubbing at the skin inside of your elbow as he prepared some sort of injection, and you tried your best to hold still so he could find a vein.

“C’mon, y/n,” Nixon’s voice was far away, and in your delirium you could’ve sworn he sounded just like your dad. “I know it’s tough but try to stay still—”

Home, home, should’ve stayed home. Wouldn’t have died like this at home….

“It’s okay, darlin’” Roe mumbled, cursing in French as another spasm of trembling runs through you. “It’s gonna be over soon—”

Before you can even begin to panic about that promise, hands grab your face again and turn your head away from the doctor, and when you open your eyes all you can see is Ron.

“It’s not poison, you’re not dying, Y/n- look at me! Good, now just look at me and the Doc’ll give you something to make you feel better—”

Th poke of the needle makes you cry out like a baby, but rather than getting angry with you Ron just nods and makes a soft tsking sound under his breath.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

You watch those dark eyes of his harden as he shoots a look towards Roe. “How long till that shit kicks in—?”

“Seconds. It may not knock her out, but she should start feeling better right away—”

Speirs didn’t bother waiting for the man to finish before looking back down at you and softening his gaze once more.

He must be scared, he wouldn’t be acting like this in front of other people if he wasn’t scared i might not make it.

Whatever Roe had injected you with was cold in your veins, blissfully cold, and you could feel it turning your spasming limbs to lead with each slowing thud of your heart.

Taking what had to be the first deep breath you’d taken in hours, you watch as Ron nods and makes a point to sync your breathing, his breath cool of your damp face as he exhales with you.

“Good, good. That’s good, sweetheart….”

Your eyes lose their ability to focus, eyelids now too heavy to keep open.

But the idea of letting them close and going to sleep filled you with dread, and even though you couldn’t articulate your concern Ron seemed to read your mind and you felt his lips at the shel of your ear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise you that you’ll be okay, okay?”

You weren’t sure if he was saying it more to you or to himself or to the other men in the room, but you nodded all the same.

A cool cloth is wiped across your brow and you feel yourself sinking into whatever medicated slumber Roe has concocted for you.

“What the fuck is Pervitin and what the hell was it doing in an SS footlocker?”

Bull’s voice sounds like it’s underwater, and the harder you try to listen and see what the answer is, you quicker you slip into the cool and inviting darkness that curled around the edges of your mind.

I could rest, you think with resigned exhaustion as you let yourself fall from consciousness. It’s been so long since I’ve rested….

The weight of Ron’s hand on your cheek was the last thing holding you to the world, and when that slipped away you followed suit.

And nothing hurt anymore.

******IMPORTANT HISTORICAL CONTEXT: 

After discovering boxes of tablets labeled Pervitin on a downed German supply plane (if i remember this correctly), the Allies realized that the Axis countries had developed a performance enhancing drug that would: 1. Keep soldiers awake and active for days at a time without needing sleep/food, 2. Increased aggression and confidence in battle, and 3. Kept soldiers from slipping into ‘shell shock’.

BIG PROBLEM THOUGH, BC PERVITIN IS LITERALLY JUST METH. REALLY REALLY PURE AND CONCENTRATED METH (which is BAD!)!

So, the Allies said to themselves: “Self, self here. Listen- what if we came up with our own Pervitin for our soldiers so they too can be better/faster/stronger?”

So, the Allies came up with Benzedrine- WHICH IS ALSO METH AND STILL VV BAD FOR YOU!

In this story, reader stumbles across some accidentally and unknowingly ends up ingesting it and you get vv sick (which is also a thing that happens to ppl who accidentally inhale amphetamines). Bc I’m a nerd I looked it up that nowadays you’d probably be given some sort of Benzodiazepine/nourishing fluids cocktail to counteract the side effects, so we’re gonna pretend that’s what the cure is in the 40s  MKAY? MKAY. 

(also tagging @mrsalwayswrite​ bc rumor has it they also have a soft spot for our dashing murder prince with nice hair and death in his eyes)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography #Also sorry for the word play I've been hanging out with my dad too much