AN: Okay, time for the big finale! My favorite…Skitts/Snitch! This one won't be as fluffy…but fluff at the end, just the same.

I'm SO sorry…I was planning on doing shout outs, but my dad is an asshole and I'm technically supposed to be sleeping. No time right now for them. Ugh…life sucks.

                                                                                                                                               

Skittery

            "Merry Christmas, Skittery."

            I looked up at Snitch, who had taken a seat across the table from me. He was smiling brightly, even though we were sitting in a large mess tent with barely enough food to satisfy our hunger, let alone suffice as a Christmas dinner. I wasn't seeing it as a very "merry" Christmas.

            "What's wrong?" He asked, and I shrugged.

            "I'm just sick of all this."

            He snickered. "Aren't we all?" He took a bite of the tough, rubbery ham, and then chuckled again. "Just look at it this way…at least you don't have to deal with your Uncle John again this year."           

            "Better him than the Iraqis."

            "Do you always have to be so pessimistic?"

            "Yes."

            He just smiled again, unperturbed by my attitude. It made me feel guilty that I wasn't making an effort for him.

            "I'm sorry Snitch…It's just that this whole thing is so…"

            "Crazy?"

            "Well, that'll work. I was looking for a word a bit stronger, but-"

            "Fucking crazy?"

            "Yeah, that's it."

            He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Well, I still love you, no matter how crazy this is."

            I was suddenly glad that the other guys in the mess hall were so drunk and loud. I smiled for the first time in a long while, and said, "I love you too."

            An explosion suddenly blew one side of the tent open, sending men flying in all directions with the force of the blast. I leaped to my feet and raised my gun in perfect synchronization with Snitch, and we slowly headed toward the hole in the canvas, my heart pounding in my throat.

            "See anything?" I asked, though I knew it was near impossible to see anything through the dust. The radio on my belt was alive nonstop with voices, either crying out for help or throwing orders around.

            "No."

            His voice was very shaky; he hadn't seen action yet. I had been out with a convoy in Baghdad, but he had been in this base camp for months.

            They had told us this base was too out of the way for the enemy to think to attack it. Obviously, they were wrong, and the Iraqis knew they would let down their guard on a holiday such as Christmas.

            I had to step over injured men and debris to get to the blast site, but we weren't medics, so we had to stick with the unspoken plan to find the shooters. My eyes met his once as we heard shooting off to the right, and I took up the lead to the area.

            "Skitts…I'm scared," he whispered, his voice cracking in mid-sentence.

            "Just follow my lead. I'll keep you safe."

            "Promise?"

            "I promise."

            And that's when one of the enemy turned the corner and aimed his gun sights right on us.

            "Get behind me!" I screamed, opening fire. Snitch didn't comply with my order; instead, he too opened fire on the enemy, and two more of them turned the corner as the first went down.

            We were evenly matched- except for the weapons. They had machine guns. This was not going to turn out well, and I knew it.

            So I did the only thing that came to mind at the moment; I stepped directly in front of Snitch and opened fire again, only to feel the hot stabbing pain when two bullets slammed into me.

            As I dropped back against Snitch, everything seemed to melt together. But one thing I'll distinctly remember is Snitch lowering me to the ground while the enemy reloaded, and then he opened fire, his jaw clenched in fury.

            The next thing I knew, both of the Iraqis were dead, and Snitch was gathering me up into his arms, muttering "Oh, God…Oh, God," over and over again.

            The radio called for him to report, and he fumbled for his radio, stating his name, rank, location, and the current situation in a shaky, uneasy voice.

            "Base will send a medic for him. Your position is too dangerous presently. Report back at once," The radio squawked.

            Snitch tensed immediately, and I tried my hardest to concentrate on what was going on. It felt as if someone had stuck two overheated fire pokers in me, and that was making it pretty difficult to listen.

            "The Marines don't leave men behind," Snitch growled into the radio, and the reply came only a moment later.

            "That is an order, Lieutenant. Report back at once."

            "Damn your orders! I'm not leaving him like this!"

            "We'll have you court marshaled-"

            "If you don't send a medic now, he's going to die. And even if the Marines have lost their creed of not leaving men behind…I haven't. So until there is a medic here, I'm staying right beside him and protecting him."

            With that said, he dropped the radio to the ground and brushed my hair back from my forehead.

            "Snitch…it's not safe here…" I choked out, gasping for air and trying to stay awake.

            "Shut up. I'm staying, and help is coming."

            "But they said…"

            "I said shut up, you moron! Don't waste your breath!"

            It was another minute of intense pain before I dared to speak again. I could feel the life draining from my body, bit by bit.

            "Snitch…I love you."

            "Don't start that. You're going to make it."

            "I don't think so. Not this time. Just remember…I love you."

            I couldn't bear to see him cry, but didn't have to for long. It was only a few more seconds before darkness took over.

                                                                                                                                               

            When I opened my eyes, I was lying in the infirmary of the base, and I was so drugged up that I couldn't move my own body without great effort. I turned my head to the side, and Snitch smiled brightly, grabbing my hand.

            "Welcome back." He said, and I just groaned. "You've been unconscious for three days, dude."

            I just moaned again in reply.

            "You didn't have to do that," He said, and I smiled.

            "I promised I'd protect you."

            "Well, thanks to you, we're both getting a medal for this."

            "You're welcome."

            He laughed, and his smile made a bit of the pain go away. "I told you that you'd pull through."

            "I know."

            "I love you, Skitts."

            "I love you too."

            And as he leaned down to kiss me, all the pain in the world couldn't put me in a bad mood.

                                                                                                                                               

AN: Review! Please! Cause if I get caught writing right now, I'm dead meat…