Kit Pryde, post Korean war. First session.

[pryde_and_grit]

If ever there was a face that simply screamed 'Good old American boy' this was it. Kit looked like he was lost rather than on medical leave for extreme PTSD and paranoia. It happened with a lot of Rangers who'd been dropped in Korea, their missions were classified and terrible, they were alone in enemy lands while working, and usually no one pulled them out. A lot of Rangers hadn't come back at all.

Kit didn't look like a Ranger, no matter what his file said. He'd been drafted at eighteen and all of his scars were on the inside, which was probably why he managed to look pleasant and even cheerful while sitting in a pool of sunlight and just...trying not to think at this little clinic.

Comments

[pryde_and_grit]

"Ma'am," Kit said simply. "The people here need help, and any not out to harm them are welcome in my book." Because war...broke people. No matter how strong, no matter how brave or trained. No one won in war.

"Corporal Kittredge Pryde, Marco unit, Rangers. Call me Kit or Pryde ma'am." Kittredge had been his parents attempts to keep two last names in the family proper.

[abetterway]

"It's an honour, Kit," she replied, solemn and sincere. "I owe my life to more than one Ranger." She owed her life to so many people. So many who could never be repaid.

[pryde_and_grit]

"It's the job ma'am. I'm glad we could help." Obviously not well enough since here was a kind lady wheelchair bound, but sometimes not everyone made it out whole. He was...having to deal with that too. "I never came across you, I think I'd remember." He'd been in scout and destroy, cutting supply lines far back behind enemy lines.

And the occasional POW retrieval.

[abetterway]

"I was caught in the Korean war." It's not quite a lie, really - she'd certainly felt trapped. Still, the necessary deception leaves a bad taste in her mouth. "It wasn't a good time to be in the country."

[pryde_and_grit]

"No ma'am, it wasn't." He had to agree there. And everyone on the damn continent had been caught up in it one way or another. "Would that most people had gotten out sooner myself."

[abetterway]

She nods, gaze going distant for a moment. "We're left with a lot of wishes, aren't we?"

[pryde_and_grit]

Oddly, that seemed to amuse him. "Way I hear it ma'am, everyone always is. Hence the 'good old days' mythos." Seemed he had a sense of humor under it all.

[abetterway]

That draws a smile, if a wry one. "Very true." The smile fades, though, as she murmurs, "Of course - some don't even have that."

[pryde_and_grit]

"We may have to agree to disagree there ma'am." Kit chuckled softly. "Dreaming? That's a God given right, and sometimes it's the only comfort people are allowed in their lives." He'd seen the prison camps, he knew. Granted, the dreams of prisoners, pf the terrified, of the broken, may not be grand dreams...

...but even little dreams helped.

[abetterway]

Jocelyn nods earnestly at that. "Dreams, yes. I meant...memories. Something happy to look back on."

Softly, as she raises her gaze to the trees, "I've met entirely too many people without that sort of anchor."

She glances at him again, now with a faint smile. "Of course...sometimes they've simply forgotten. That's often where I come in."

[pryde_and_grit]

"Ah, I follow." Kind of anyway. They hadn't actually mentioned memories, just 'the good old days'. "So you're not only an unliscensed doctor who came to help, but a memory expert?"

[abetterway]

"Something of the sort, yes." There was an almost mischievous quirk to her lips. "I'm a woman of many depths."

[pryde_and_grit]

"You'd have to be to come in here willing ma'am, no offense." Only patients and deep, deep doctors came in willingly. And even then some of the patients..."You smiling cause you'd like me to ask then?" Yes, he was smiling back.