homesick for familiar trees

— insp

You have to do whatever it takes to take care of the people you love.

The Punisher Appreciation Week

Day Two: A Male Character - David “Micro” Lieberman

“You know, everything that we teach them about being good human beings? That’s what this comes down to. This is why I took this job. This is why we are here and I’m not.. writing apps in Silicon Valley. How am I supposed to look these guys in the eye, knowing that I didn’t have the guts to do the right thing?”

David “Micro” Lieberman In Every Episode: 1x02 | Two Dead Men

There are also those days on which he suddenly understands the need to safeguard one’s mind from humanity’s worst. Today is rapidly shaping up to be one of those.

The video opens and David forgets to breathe. They are in a room that contains at least one room atop it, judging by the barely visible staircase and the sound of footsteps thudding upon it. The room itself is almost bare, stripped of any recognition points he can identify at present, but the lights overhead showcase something horrifying all the same.

In the room’s centre is a man. He is strung up by his wrists, dangling suspended from the ropes with his feet almost but never quite touching the ground, and he is swaying back and forth on the spot. His breathing is labored. There’s a catch in the man’s voice that says he is going to break. He will plead. He will ask for mercy.

For a time, it’s all David can focus on. There are other men in the room, but they are not tied up. They wear masks and military outfits. He rakes his hand through his hair as he identifies the uniforms as American, stripped from all ranks or identifiers as they are, and prays this isn’t going to be anywhere near the clusterfuck he’s certain this is going to be.

David’s prayers are never answered.

The man does plead. He pleads in English that he is not a terrorist, which is something David has heard before. He pleads that he has a family of his own – a father begging to be let go home to his wife and children. It isn’t the English, perfect but accented, that rattles David. He’s heard careful English like this before, spoken by allies and enemies alike, and if he had money for every time someone claimed they were not a terrorist David would be richer than the Queen of England by now.

What rattles him is the Pashto the man slips into upon hearing one of the masked men speak it. This masked man is the only one of the interrogators wearing civilian clothes. David thinks he may be the leader, but fears it may be an expert misdirection by those who do not wish their identities to become known. The Pashto isn’t void of pleas. But there’s something else within it, too, and his stomach flips upon hearing the prisoner ask his interrogator if the others are aware that they are dealing with an Afghani police officer.

“Fuck,” David breathes when the interrogator does not dispute the man’s words. Clenches his fists when the interrogator claims in English that the man isn’t giving them anything useful. “You son of a bitch.”