"How did you up and lose them?" he asks softly nodding towards the other's legs. The younger man smiles a small smile preparing to start a story he's been forced to tell many times before.
"I've always wanted to be a vet. But my family couldn't afford to send me here. It was my dream though I wasn't going to give up that easily. I wasn't bad at high school, I was smart but I was just too normal to get any scholarships so I was on my own. A friend of mine suggested I join the army and use the G.I. Bill to pay for a majority of my tuition," he began the story in a gentle voice with the same tiny smile as he wore earlier. This story was the most painful he'd told but it was his story. He had to own it.
"I figured I would do the minimum amount of service and get a relatively free ride here. I hoped and I prayed that I wouldn't get shipped out. I did. They sent me over there with a group of men who'd lived such different lives than I did but they'd never seen war. Or death like this. We bonded quickly as we patrolled the cities and towns. The locals were so kind. We were lucky. We saw little hostility. " And with a pause in the story Gamzee sees something he has only read about in those novels about Vietnam veterans. The thousand yard stare. Tavros is gone. He's back in that RV. He's silent as he stares. Gamzee grabs the tan hand bringing him back.
"There were no clouds that afternoon as we drove to the next town. We were all pretty content. We were used to these long drives, the nerves. We'd all heard the horror stories of vehicles driving over IED's on the news. But I guess I never really thought that would happen to us. I don't remember much after we hit it. I remember fire and pain. I lost my hearing just like in the movies..." It's then he starts to tremble. The memory floats into his mind floating far too close to reality much like the dreams he used to have. Gamzee pulls him into him mumbling soft "I'm sorry"s. He had no clue of this pain his friend had had. He thinks back to the day he showed Tavros his scars. He can remember the sympathy in the young males eyes as he watched them come to life. How could he have shown such compassion towards a wound from a bar fight when he'd seen so much already?
"Don't be," Tavros says softly into his shoulder. Gamzee holds the other away from himself looking at him with a questioning gaze. "I only lost my legs. I'm... I'm the only survivor. They lost their lives. Their families lost them. They lost their sons, their fathers, their husbands, their brothers. I got to come home. I got lucky. "
A frown forms on Gamzee's face as he begins to realize that Tavros blames himself. "It's not your fault, Tavbro ..." he whispers his grip on the other tightening.
Tavros nods smiling softly, "I know," he lies.
