AITA for not leaving the military with my friend of 20+ years?
I (39m) have been serving in the military alongside someone I've grown very close to (40m) for over 20 years now, and don't give me any of that "thank you for your service" bullshit because it all sucked and we kept getting tangled up with the repercussions of this top secret failed military project or whatever that almost got us killed MULTIPLE times. The details aren't important, all that matters is that it eventually led to our Sergeant getting killed recently and leaving me as the team leader.
Anyways, throughout these 20+ years, the guy I mentioned earlier has expressed the entire time how much he hates it and wants out. He complains a lot but he actually has accomplished a lot, although neither of us would ever admit that to each other. But he's clearly pretty miserable here, so as the new leader, the very first thing I did was discharge him. It's what he's been begging for since basic and I figure after all the shit we've been through, he's earned it. I expected him to pack his things and leave right then and there, but no, he immediately asks me to come with him. This threw me off completely; I figured he'd want out with no reminders of any of the past 20 years, but no, he wanted me to come with him.
I didn't know what to tell him. Our sergeant had just died, and I felt like abandoning the position he'd left me would be a dishonor to his memory. I owed it to him to stay after everything he'd done for me personally, and besides, I felt like I was finally doing something with my life, like after all these years I'd finally found success. So I said no, and I stayed. He's long since home by now spending time with his sister, and I can't help but start to feel like I made the wrong choice. I mean, I'm literally the only member of our team left now aside from the robot that our sergeant made who only speaks Spanish (long story) but I'm pretty sure he hates me and wants me to leave. So AITA for not leaving?
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parting deferred
For perhaps the last time, Joui talks to Liz. pre-desconjuraçao, also posted to my ao3.
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Shamefully, his gaze passes over her at first. She’s only another old woman sitting in the back of the library, white head bowed over a study table. But the way she frowns at the mess of papers before her is all Liz.
Joui tries his best to assess her condition as he navigates the shelves. She’s alive. And unhurt, and perhaps even sober. He can breathe more easily now that he sees her.
Someone unexpectedly exits a row in front of him—he startles, reaches for the weight at his hip, apologizes, heart racing—arrives.
Another moment of unfamiliarity. Joui could be looking at someone else’s grandmother reading the paper.
He shakes off the moment, and the uncertainty that suddenly rises in his chest.
“Liz-senpai?”
It takes a moment for his voice to register—she’s absorbed in whatever the papers are telling her. He can see the recognition in her face, the way the hand that holds the pen stops its motion.
She covers her notes as she turns to him. He tries to suppress the sting.
“Joui? What do you want?”
“You didn’t respond to the group chat,” he says, his tone more accusing than he means it to be.
“I muted it. It was distracting me.”
“We were worried. Liz, I went to your apartment and the landlord said it had been sold. And you weren’t answering calls or texts and—“
“How did you find me?” she asks.
Joui is thrown off. “Ce-Kaiser tracked your phone,” he says honestly.
Liz purses her lips. “I see.”
“We were worried,” Joui explains. (I was worried) “You disappeared—what if something had happened to you?”
“Well. As you can see, I’m fine. As fine as I can be. You can tell that to the others.”
Joui looks at the pile of papers—newspapers, dated recently. “Liz-senpai, what are you working on? Can I help?”
She slips her notebook into her bag, covering the table with the other hand. “Joui—I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
And she can—Joui knows Liz, and she’s strong—but how strong is she now? She’s smart—smart enough to get to the bottom of this, whatever it is, and put herself right back in danger.
He misses hearing her theorize, brow furrowed and eyes alight. He misses her laugh and her smile. He misses Liz herself—she’s right in front of him again, but she feels a thousand miles away.
“Don’t disappear again,” he pleads. “We need you.” (I need you, he wants to say, but he’s terrified that it won’t be enough to keep her with him.) “The Order needs you.”
That makes Liz laugh—a bitter echo of his memories. “The Order doesn’t know what it’s doing.” She straightens the papers on the table. “Symptoms,” she says. “They’re treating symptoms, and the heart is rotten. We throw ourselves into a brick wall over and over until every one of us is dead and broken.”
Joui doesn’t know what to say. It’s a mirror of the thoughts that haunt him at night, laid over the memories that never fade. He doesn’t have words of hope—he has to be the strong one now, but he doesn’t know what to do.
Liz turns over the newspapers, arranging and rearranging them feverishly. Joui watches and he doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t know what to do.
He puts a hand on her shoulder, finally, clawing past the uncertainty that freezes him in place.
“Liz-senpai. Look at me, please.”
She meets his gaze, and whatever he’d tentatively planned to say next escapes his mind. Her eyes are older than the wrinkles on her face. The eyes of the monster of death flash into his mind—a thought he despises as soon as he has it.
“Liz-senpai?” he repeats.
“Get out, Joui,” she says, and she just looks tired now.
He isn’t hurt that she’s still putting herself in danger—he understands the itch to do something, anything. He’s hurt that she doesn’t want him beside her. Joui isn’t sure of many things these days, but he knows bone deep that they need to protect each other. If he loses Liz—and Arthur and Kaiser—every part of him that matters will have died.
“If you think I’d leave you, you don’t know me,” he snaps.
Something flashes over Liz’s face. “I suppose I can’t make you do anything—it’s not like I’m your mother.”
Joui wishes she had hit him instead. He tries to say something else and can’t manage it.
He thinks she wants to say something else too. She pauses as she walks away, looks back—but she leaves anyway.
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