Drabbles of a Screaming Eagle

Soldier was not a smart man. He knew that even if he didn't say it. After all, plenty of other people expressed that fact already. Even his own teammates, though it was more out of exasperation than maliciousness. It was to be expected when one was at war. They could go ahead and do that. Meanwhile, he would be busy out on the battlefield, blowing the brains out of his enemies. He would keep doing what he loved more than life itself. He would keep perfecting the art of war until even Sun Tzu would commend him. So he couldn't say the jabs bothered him. But sometimes, there were days when the fog in his head was worse than usual. There was always a fog in his head, though Medic might've called it "brain fog" if he was aware of Soldier's disoriented state of thought. But he didn't and Soldier would like for it to stay that way. What kind of a soldier would he be if he betrayed any of his weaknesses? He wouldn’t be a true soldier, that was for sure. During days when his head felt murkier than usual, he tended to make more mistakes. They were mistakes that would be considered "too stupid", even for someone like him. On those days, the constant pain in his joints ached more than usual. Not even Medic’s Medi-Gun could heal the pain away, although Soldier tried not to let Medic know of his condition. “Pain was weakness leaving the body”, as he learned growing up. It was an important lesson that was beaten into him. Still, these days were the ones he hated the most. Still, he accepted it as one of the many facts of life. Nothing could keep down the American spirit within him. Not even pain itself.