Declan
Declan (POV)
AUGUST 2014
As I rounded the corner to the entrance of the Rack, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The last time I had set foot in this place was during my senior year of high school, which was about four years ago. I hesitated for a moment and peered in through the glass door. That was when I saw her, sitting at one of the corner tables; she was sipping coffee while she read her book. I smiled, she still looked the same, and her auburn hair still fell in loose ringlets around her shoulders. It was funny how just seeing someone from my past could bring up so many emotions that I thought I had long overcome. We were just old friends catching up over coffee, yet I still felt nervous.
I shook off the nerves and pushed the door and entered the coffee shop. I ran my hand though my short cut hair, trying my best to wick away the wetness from the rain.
"Hey Trager," I beamed as I approached Lori's table.
"McDonough," She smirked back as she stood to give me a hug, "It's been way too long,"
"I know," I agreed, squeezing my arms around her, "almost four years,"
Lori smiled as we sat back down at the table. After we graduated from high school, she had gone off to New York to study music, and I joined the army. We stayed in touch at first, sending emails at least once a week. However once a week turned into once a month which eventually led to a few times a year.
"I see the army has treated you well," She joked, "I'm pretty sure you weren't on steroids in high school,"
"Nice Trager, mock a man who has fought for his country," I teased.
She shook her head and sighed slightly, her smile softening, "I still can't get used to that,"
"What do you mean?" I asked, slightly confused.
"I can't picture you in a war zone, fighting," Lori explained, "I still remember when playing pro-basketball was your dream,"
"It's crazy how much things change," I mumbled, shifting in my seat.
"You're telling me," She agreed.
"So what is this I hear that you're going back to school?" I questioned, "What happened to 'Lori Trager singer song writer'?"
"She inevitably grew up," Lori sighed, "I always thought music was my passion and that I'd be the next Cold Play or something, but as of late I've been reassessing my life and I decided to go back to school and get a degree in phycology,"
"I always suspected that you would eventually follow in your Mom's footsteps," I smiled softly.
We were both older now; we had outgrown the lives that we used to share. We had tasted life outside of our high school bubble and it had changed our views of the world.
I had fought in a war, an experience that aged me a fair amount. It was evident in my physical appearance, I now had little crinkles in the corners of my eyes and the lines around my mouth were deeper and more prevalent. My skin was darker and my hair was a shade lighter from the constant sun exposure.
Lori had experiences of her own; she lived in New York from the age of eighteen until a few months prior. She wasn't the jaded teenager she had once been. Her experiences had shaped her into an entirely new person.
"So how long are you in town anyway?" She asked as her fingers trace the contours of her empty mug.
"I just finished my last tour in Afghanistan," I said keeping away from the reason why I had been sent home, "They won't be sending me back,"
"Well that's a good thing, right?" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Yeah, yeah," I nodded, I was unsure of how I felt about the situation, "It's just different being home,"
"I'm sure," She sympathized, "Are you living with your Dad or…."
"Actually, I just signed a lease for an apartment down town," I felt some relief that the topic had changed, "What about you?"
"I'm living at home until I start classes at U-dub in the fall," She explained.
My phone vibrated against the table, I checked it and found that it was just a text. 'We need to meet,' was all it said. I stuffed the phone into the pocket of my jacket. Lori took note that I hadn't bothered to reply to the message.
"Girlfriend?" She questioned, raising one eyebrow.
"No, no," I sighed, "The last girlfriend I had sent me a 'Dear John' letter while I was over seas,"
"Ouch," She winced, "that's rough,"
"Yeah," I nodded, "Are you still with Mark?"
"No, we couldn't make the long distance work," She was referring to when she was in New York and Mark was still in Seattle.
"So is Lori Trager single and open for business?" I teased, referring to what she had said in high school.
"Oh my god," her cheeks flushed, "The things we said in high school,"
"The things you and Hillary said and did in high school," I corrected, with a lighter tone, "I still remember when re-virginization was sweeping the nation, or when all the guys on the basketball team's girlfriends thought they were in a 'gunk' or an 'unwee',"
"We were clever," She shrugged, "What can I say,"
"Sure, clever," I laughed slightly, "I missed this,"
"I missed this too," She admitted.
"I have to get going," I mumbled as I stood up, "but do you think you'd have time for lunch later this week?"
"Sure, just text me later and we'll figure out a day," She said as she stood as well.
"I'll see you around, Trager," I smirked as I bent down slightly to give her a hug.
It was still raining when I left the Rack, so I jogged to my truck. The SUV that I driven in high school had died; now I was driving a pick up truck. I drove through Seattle and watched as the shops and boutiques pass by. I had a sense of familiarity as I drove. I knew I was getting close when I passed the fishing docks and vacant factories. The gravel crunch under the tires as I pulled up to the old warehouse.
"You're late," A rough call echoed through the warehouse as I pushed the heavy metal door open.
"Sorry Foss," I mumbled, "I'm here now,"
After Kyle left Tom Foss had taken me under his wing and began to train me. Foss had said that there would come a day when I would have to take over being Kyle's protector. At first it was rough, we had a lot of animosities to work though. Eventually we both got over our differences and began working together.
"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked as I changed into a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt.
"How do you feel about running in the rain?" Foss smirked, grabbing his dark green raincoat.
"Not like I haven't done it before," I countered.
There was a difference between the way Foss trained me and the way he had trained Kyle. With Kyle, his training had been more of conditioning his body to keep up with his mind. With me however, Foss's military background had more of an influence.
"Grab those cinderblocks," he ordered.
I grabbed a cinderblock in each hand and followed him out of the warehouse. We walked until we came to a flight of stairs that led to an abandoned business building.
"I want you to hold one of the cinderblocks above your head while you run up and down these steps," He called over the noise of the rain.
I nodded and got to it, pushing myself as hard as I could. I had learned early on that it was better to not question Foss's antics, but rather just do as I was told. While I wasn't in Afghanistan or on base, I was training with Foss. Occasionally, Jessi would make an appearance and give a report on Kyle, however that was usually only at night and she never stayed for too long.
After running the steps for almost an hour, Foss finally stopped me.
"How's your shoulder?" Foss asked, noticing I must have winced when I set the cinderblock down.
"Nothing I can't handle," I shrugged it off.
"I don't need your pride, getting in the way of our training," Foss grumbled as he picked up one of the cinderblocks and began walking back to the warehouse, "How much pain are you actually in?"
"It's manageable, about a four on a good day," I downplayed.
"We'll take it easy for a while," Foss said, "Give you some time to heal,"
1 Year ago… MAY 2013 (No POV)
Declan sat in the passenger side of the Humvee. He and his squad had been sent on patrol, they were escorting a Red Cross vehicle that was bringing supplies to a health clinic. Getting the truck to its drop zone had been easy. They were currently on rout back to the base. His fellow officers were going on about how they would be returning home in a few weeks on leave. They all had girlfriends or wives or family's to go back to, they had lives back home.
Declan watched the road as they carried on. He noticed a child, no older than ten, on the side of the road watching all the vehicles go by. The boy reached into his pocket, something about the boy set him on edge. However his nerves were calmed when the boy pulled out a small toy from his pocket. The Humvee continued down the dirt road, the other officers oblivious to Declan's observation.
The Humvee hit a small bump in the road and everything changed. Suddenly Declan couldn't hear his fellow officers talking, all he could hear was the deafening sound of white noise. He knew they had driven over a roadside bomb. Declan couldn't move, as his body had been flung out of the Humvee onto the sand. He knew he had been hurt, however he was unsure of the extent of his injuries because of the adrenaline that was pumping through his body. He began feeling his chest searching for the source of the blood that was pooling around him.
One of the officers in the other Humvee came rushing to his aid. Declan could see the man speaking to him however he couldn't make out what was being said. He could feel the officer apply pressure to his chest. Eventually everything went black and his body gave into the pain.
