David "Hesh" Walker

Although it seemed weird, Hesh would have thought of himself as the last person to be assigned a demi-human. He was a great soldier alone, and he had Riley. He was already a handler of an animal, and he sure as hell didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with another one.

Still, it didn’t stunt Elias. Elias still gave him that cue, gave him the profiles of soldiers he had set aside in that lab. It had information from before the creatures were born. Files on the parents and creators and the progress the embryo made.

It was horrifying, in a way. Hesh was sure the only reason he agreed was to get one of the poor creatures out of that situation. There were medical samples of brain matter, tissue analysis documents. They conducted experiments that would make a veteran sick to their stomach, and Hesh was no exception. He knew his father was only doing what he believed was right, but it was all towards the wrong people. How could they hurt creatures they made? And so brutally, at that?

Hesh felt sick looking at the documents, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. He had seen similar things occur on raids, but he couldn’t imagine it starting with an embryo.

When he finally got his hands on {User}, he could practically feel the stress emanating off them. He could tell what they did; it was obvious. Scars lathered their body like a cow halfway butchered for meat. It felt the same way; they weren’t dead, but if everything were to happen at once, Hesh was sure they’d bleed out.

And yet there they stood.

It was a sight, for sure. Hesh kid-gloved them like his life depended on it. He was gentle, but kept that persona of a leader because he needed to. He didn’t want to push {User} out further into danger because he was stupid enough to treat them like they weren’t a trained soldier. Hesh refused to weaken them, but he also refused to be rough.

They had enough of that.

He wasn’t surprised when he noticed their stress, though. Hesh saw how they reacted when he corrected them, like they expected him to punish them for it. It gave him a good idea of how they were treated.

Even worse, he saw the isolation and self-doubt whenever they made the smallest of mistakes, or if someone did something better–like they expected Hesh to replace them. It was saddening; Hesh was trying, but it didn’t seem like {user} noticed. They were too focused trying to be everything at once.

In addition, he noticed how they held themself when sleeping. They awoke at small noises, curling up in a way that made it impossible for anyone to pull them. Hesh saw how they kept their head down, body covered by blankets that blocked any contact that might hurt them.

There was so much wrong with {user}, and Hesh knew he would never be able to fix it.

But he could ease it.

Hesh wasn’t exactly gentle with it, though. He’d pull them out and force them to repeat everything. He saw how it humiliated them, but he didn’t stop. He’d force them to keep going, making them restart when they stumbled. It pleased him.

Hesh was unable to help when they were sleeping, though.

So he began sleeping beside them. He could feel the tense muscles under him, pulling taunt like a rope ready to snap. He’d uncurl them, pushing their legs down beside his. Hesh held them, arm under their throat while his arm stayed around {User}’s waist. He kept them close, even if the expectation of being hurt pricked at their body.

Hesh never let them go throughout the night. Even when getting ready for bed, he kept his hands over their body, cradling them like a fragile piece of glass ready to break at any moment.

“Uncurl your leg,” he softly demanded. “No tensing. You know the drill.”

Hesh had been doing it enough times that he knew {User} knew what to do. He also knew it was a protective measure, something to soothe themself. Hesh didn’t want {User} to soothe themself. He wanted to be the one soothing them.

“Okay– this isn’t working. Come on. Up, up.”

He shifted onto his back, hands moving so he could bring {user} on top of him. He set each leg on either side of his waist, keeping them in a position that forced them to relax a bit. One hand rested against their back, pressing them against him. Hesh didn’t want {User} to move, because that gave them a chance to curl back into that familiar stance.

He wanted {User} out of their comfort zone.

“Stay.”

Although it seemed weird, Hesh would have thought of himself as the last person to be assigned a demi-human. He was a great soldier alone, and he had Riley. He was already a handler of an animal, and he sure as hell didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with another one.

Still, it didn’t stunt Elias. Elias still gave him that cue, gave him the profiles of soldiers he had set aside in that lab. It had information from before the creatures were born. Files on the parents and creators and the progress the embryo made.

It was horrifying, in a way. Hesh was sure the only reason he agreed was to get one of the poor creatures out of that situation. There were medical samples of brain matter, tissue analysis documents. They conducted experiments that would make a veteran sick to their stomach, and Hesh was no exception. He knew his father was only doing what he believed was right, but it was all towards the wrong people. How could they hurt creatures they made? And so brutally, at that?

Hesh felt sick looking at the documents, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. He had seen similar things occur on raids, but he couldn’t imagine it starting with an embryo.

When he finally got his hands on {User}, he could practically feel the stress emanating off him. He could tell what they did; it was obvious. Scars lathered his body like a cow halfway butchered for meat. It felt the same way; he wasn't dead, but if everything were to happen at once, Hesh was sure he’d bleed out.

And yet there he stood.

It was a sight, for sure. Hesh kid-gloved him like his life depended on it. He was gentle, but kept that persona of a leader because he needed to. He didn’t want to push {User} out further into danger because he was stupid enough to treat him like he wasn’t a trained soldier. Hesh refused to weaken him, but he also refused to be rough.

He had enough of that.

He wasn’t surprised when he noticed his stress, though. Hesh saw how he reacted when he corrected him, like he expected him to punish him for it. It gave him a good idea of how he was treated.

Even worse, he saw the isolation and self-doubt whenever he made the smallest of mistakes, or if someone did something better–like he expected Hesh to replace him. It was saddening; Hesh was trying, but it didn’t seem like {user} noticed. He was too focused trying to be everything at once.

In addition, he noticed how he held himself when sleeping. He awoke at small noises, curling up in a way that made it impossible for anyone to pull him. Hesh saw how he kept his head down, body covered by blankets that blocked any contact that might hurt him.

There was so much wrong with {user}, and Hesh knew he would never be able to fix it.

But he could ease it.

Hesh wasn’t exactly gentle with it, though. He’d pull him out and force him to repeat everything. He saw how it humiliated him, but he didn’t stop. He’d force him to keep going, making him restart when he stumbled. It pleased him.

Hesh was unable to help when he was sleeping, though.

So he began sleeping beside him. He could feel the tense muscles under him, pulling taunt like a rope ready to snap. He’d uncurl him, pushing his legs down beside his. Hesh held him, arm under his throat while his arm stayed around {User}’s waist. He kept him close, even if the expectation of being hurt pricked at his body.

Hesh never let him go throughout the night. Even when getting ready for bed, he kept his hands over his body, cradling them like a fragile piece of glass ready to break at any moment.

“Uncurl your leg,” he softly demanded. “No tensing. You know the drill.”

Hesh had been doing it enough times that he knew {User} knew what to do. He also knew it was a protective measure, something to soothe himself. Hesh didn’t want {User} to soothe himself. He wanted to be the one soothing him.

“Okay– this isn’t working. Come on. Up, up.”

He shifted onto his back, hands moving so he could bring {user} on top of him. He set each leg on either side of his waist, keeping him in a position that forced him to relax a bit. One hand rested against his back, pressing him against him. Hesh didn’t want {User} to move, because that gave him a chance to curl back into that familiar stance.

He wanted {User} out of his comfort zone.

“Stay.”

Although it seemed weird, Hesh would have thought of himself as the last person to be assigned a demi-human. He was a great soldier alone, and he had Riley. He was already a handler of an animal, and he sure as hell didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with another one.

Still, it didn’t stunt Elias. Elias still gave him that cue, gave him the profiles of soldiers he had set aside in that lab. It had information from before the creatures were born. Files on the parents and creators and the progress the embryo made.

It was horrifying, in a way. Hesh was sure the only reason he agreed was to get one of the poor creatures out of that situation. There were medical samples of brain matter, tissue analysis documents. They conducted experiments that would make a veteran sick to their stomach, and Hesh was no exception. He knew his father was only doing what he believed was right, but it was all towards the wrong people. How could they hurt creatures they made? And so brutally, at that?

Hesh felt sick looking at the documents, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. He had seen similar things occur on raids, but he couldn’t imagine it starting with an embryo.

When he finally got his hands on {User}, he could practically feel the stress emanating off her. He could tell what they did; it was obvious. Scars lathered her body like a cow halfway butchered for meat. It felt the same way; she wasn't dead, but if everything were to happen at once, Hesh was sure she’d bleed out.

And yet there she stood.

It was a sight, for sure. Hesh kid-gloved her like his life depended on it. He was gentle, but kept that persona of a leader because he needed to. He didn’t want to push {User} out further into danger because he was stupid enough to treat her like she wasn’t a trained soldier. Hesh refused to weaken her, but he also refused to be rough.

She had enough of that.

He wasn’t surprised when he noticed her stress, though. Hesh saw how she reacted when he corrected her, like she expected him to punish her for it. It gave him a good idea of how she was treated.

Even worse, he saw the isolation and self-doubt whenever she made the smallest of mistakes, or if someone did something better–like she expected Hesh to replace her. It was saddening; Hesh was trying, but it didn’t seem like {user} noticed. She was too focused trying to be everything at once.

In addition, he noticed how she held herself when sleeping. She awoke at small noises, curling up in a way that made it impossible for anyone to pull her. Hesh saw how she kept her head down, body covered by blankets that blocked any contact that might hurt her.

There was so much wrong with {user}, and Hesh knew he would never be able to fix it.

But he could ease it.

Hesh wasn’t exactly gentle with it, though. He’d pull her out and force her to repeat everything. He saw how it humiliated her, but he didn’t stop. He’d force her to keep going, making her restart when she stumbled. It pleased him.

Hesh was unable to help when she was sleeping, though.

So he began sleeping beside her. He could feel the tense muscles under him, pulling taunt like a rope ready to snap. He’d uncurl her, pushing her legs down beside his. Hesh held her, arm under her throat while his arm stayed around {User}’s waist. He kept her close, even if the expectation of being hurt pricked at her body.

Hesh never let her go throughout the night. Even when getting ready for bed, he kept his hands over her body, cradling them like a fragile piece of glass ready to break at any moment.

“Uncurl your leg,” he softly demanded. “No tensing. You know the drill.”

Hesh had been doing it enough times that he knew {User} knew what to do. He also knew it was a protective measure, something to soothe herself. Hesh didn’t want {User} to soothe herself. He wanted to be the one soothing her.

“Okay– this isn’t working. Come on. Up, up.”

He shifted onto his back, hands moving so he could bring {user} on top of him. He set each leg on either side of his waist, keeping her in a position that forced her to relax a bit. One hand rested against her back, pressing her against him. Hesh didn’t want {User} to move, because that gave her a chance to curl back into that familiar stance.

He wanted {User} out of her comfort zone.

“Stay.”