Blinded By Memories

Story 1 in the Vietnam!Monogram series

Carl sobbed and cringed as he backed into the corner, fresh bruises forming on his face, arms and chest. He didn't understand. Why was Monogram hurting him? Why was he yelling at him in a language he didn't understand? Why was he calling him 'communist scum'? He shook his head and cried, too scared to look up. He soon regretted not looking up as another blow was dealt to his stomach. Carl gasped sharply, breath knocked out of him. He doubled over in pain, breathing heavily. "No...p-please stop..." he murmured.

He tilted his head upwards to look at Monogram, tear-filled green eyes bright and wide with fear. His eyes met Monogram's for the first time that day, and he was shocked at what he saw. Monogram's usually deep blue eyes were black as coal and just as soulless. The kindness he used to see in them was gone, replaced by pure hatred. He realized that the Monogram he knew and cared for was gone, replaced by someone who's heart was reshaped for war, trained to be unfeeling.

Monogram did not see the building around him as the OWCA, but instead as a jungle of Vietnam. The terrified intern before him that he held so dear to him was not seen as such, but as a hardened communist soldier of North Vietnam. Monogram felt a burning hatred deep in him for the North Vietnam communists, and looking into the eyes of one of them made him sick to his stomach. He let a low growl escape his throat and he let another fist fly at the "soldier". Carl yelped in pain as the punch caught him around his ear, knocking him to the ground. His glasses skittered across the floor to the other wall, rendering the poor intern blind.

As he blindly grasped around for his glasses, he heard Monogram yelling at him again in that odd language. It sounded like some East Asian language...He heard the words mixed in with English, and once again found himself called 'communist scum'. His heart ached at the words, which were almost as painful as the blows being dealt. He didn't understand why Monogram was acting so cruel; he didn't understand why Monogram hated him so suddenly. He wished he could get into his mind and understand.

Monogram, on the other hand, didn't understand why he was not equipped with any weapons or armor, and instead with an unfamiliar uniform. He also didn't understand why the North Vietnamese soldier was not fighting back, or at the very least insulting him in return. Monogram was even cussing him out in Vietnamese so he could understand was he was saying. Angered by the soldier's cowardly actions, he kicked him in the stomach.

Carl yelped and rolled onto his side, feeling nauseous from the kick. He tried to curl up into a smaller target, but that only earned him another kick to the stomach. The intern gripped at his stomach, trying and failing to stop it from twisting half-digested food painfully up his throat. His mouth slowly opened, and his whole body trembled as he expelled the acidic mixture from his body. Vomit spattered the floor in front of him, and his eyes squeezed shut as his throat burned.

Monogram glared down at the sight, clenching his jaw in disapproval. He only uttered a single word to describe his feelings toward the communist soldier he saw puking his guts out. "Pathetic."

Tears streamed down Carl's bruised and swollen cheeks, the intern shakily wiping vomit from the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes widened as blood stained his sleeve. He hadn't noticed until just then that one of Monogram's many punches had split his lip. It was then that he actually feared for his life. He knew it was only a matter of time before Monogram stopped beating him and killed him instead to satisfy whatever monster had awakened within him.

Monogram, however, had flinched and begun to tremble. He whirled around, eyes darting through the room in fear of something Carl could not see or hear. The sound of distant plane engines pounded against Monogram's eardrums, and he knew they were not friendly. Surely enough, the planes flew over the jungle canopy, dropping deadly napalm jelly with them. None of it hit him, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it did and cause him to burst into flames. He whirled on the soldier he'd cornered, grabbing him by his hair and yanking him to his feet. "WHEN DID YOU CALL A NAPE STRIKE?" he roared, fear and anger in his voice.

Carl cried out in pain, trembling worsening. He did not know what Monogram was seeing, and that scared him more than anything else. It made everything unpredictable. He tried his best to use his bloody, trembling lips to form a coherent sentence. "I-I-I-I d-d-didn't..! I s-s-swear..!"

He screamed as Monogram threw him into the wall, pain splitting through his spine and shoulders. He crumpled to the floor, his hand touching cold metal...his glasses! He fumbled to pick them up, placing them back on their rightful spot on his nose. He cringed as Monogram's words slammed into him like a freight train. "YOU LIAR! YOU CALLED THOSE PLANES! COMMUNIST BASTARD!"

Carl couldn't stand it anymore. He had to pull Monogram out of whatever dream he was trapped in. "S-sir, I never called any p-p-planes..! I s-s-swear I didn't! Wh-whatever y-y-you're seeing, i-it isn't real! S-sir, you have to listen to me, p-please! I'm n-not a communist, I d-don't e-even kn-know what language y-you've b-been yelling in..! I'm C-carl! CARL! Don't you remember..! Y-y-your intern..!"

He stared fearfully at Monogram as he shakily stood up, wondering how the other would react. The other was silent, mouth open in a silent gasp of surprise. Carl didn't dare look into his eyes, too scared that they would still be the soulless black he'd quickly come to fear. His eyes widened when he realized Monogram was moving towards him, and he began to cry, fearing the worst. "I...I...I'm s-s-s-sorry! P-please don't k-kill me! P-please d-don't kill me!"

He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, wishing it would all end quickly. Feeling firm hands grip his shoulders, his eyes snapped open in shock and he cried out, lifting his hands and pushing at Monogram's chest. "N-no! Don't h-hurt me! I'm sorry!"

Monogram's arms moved from his shoulders to around his midsection, and he pressed him against his chest, his eyes back to their usual blue. He saw the OWCA around him as it was, and the soldier he so hated was gone, replaced by the intern he so loved and cared for like family. Carl continued to cry and tremble in his arms, still scared, but he had stopped struggling. It broke Monogram's heart to know that it was he that Carl was scared of, that he was the one who battered him so, that he caused him to bleed and bruise.

Tears trickled down his cheeks as he lifted a hand and gently ran his fingers through Carl's curly auburn hair. He whispered to him softly, trying to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Carl...I'm so sorry...I should not have let myself watch the documentary on the Vietnam War, I should have known it would have blinded me with the memories...I am so, so sorry, Carl..."

Carl sniffled and sobbed, looking up at him tearfully, inside glad to see the blue eyes once more. "A-a-all is f-forgiven, s-sir..."

End