They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
One nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again.
~Is 2:4~

Isaiah's Requiem

by Winds-of-Dawn

The day, crisp and clear, so rare in winter Cascade, buoyed Blair's spirits as he strolled through the park alongside Jim. They had just turned the corner toward the playground, laughing as they recalled the antics of Stephen's new baby son at the annual Ellison family Christmas bash, when Jim flinched and froze, still as a statue. Surprised and alarmed by his partner's sudden change of mood, Blair followed Jim's gaze, which was locked on --

A forlorn, broken model military helicopter stuck in the middle of the sand lot, its door torn asunder, tail twisted out of shape, body dented and scraped from the force of some harsh punishing impact.

Blair walked up to the crushed toy, noting the finely detailed construction -- it was an exact 1/12th scale replica, just like the one he'd seen in the store the other day, as realistically built as a toy could be. Blair bent, his mind reeling with images of a helicopter faltering in mid-air, screams of fear and agony, the torn and bloody bodies, the nauseating smell of burnt flesh...

Carefully, he worked the battered helicopter free of the sand, gently brushing away the dust. As his fingers traced the scarred surface, he felt Jim walk up and sink down beside him. Looking up, Blair found himself gazing into winter blue eyes, full with remembered pain and grief. Silently, Jim reached out to touch the helicopter, his fingers twining with Blair's. Jim's hand was soft and warm against the cold hardness of metal, and Blair blinked, absurdly relieved at the loosening of the cold clench around his heart.

They got up and walked through the park, the helicopter cradled in Blair's arms, until Jim turned and led the way to a secluded spot. Together they dug a grave for the helicopter, and Jim stuck a rough cross fashioned from twigs onto the small mound.

As they walked away, arm in arm, Blair thought about Jim's men, lost in Peru, of their families and their grief for their loved ones, of all the people who died and lost loved ones in wars -- and leaned in closer to the solid presence of his love.

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