Chapter 7: Memories

"Tell me about your relationship with your father," the psychiatrist said slowly, her glasses low on her nose as she peered up from her notepad. "I understand that he too is in the armed forces and has been since you were a child."

Sydney mentally rolled her eyes as she forced out a nod and a smile. "Yeah…he's been in the Navy since I was a kid."

"That must have been hard, Sydney; growing up with a father in the military."

The young woman shrugged as she avoided the gaze of the doctor, averting her eyes to focus on straightening the crease of her dress blue pants.

"He wasn't around a lot, but he was serving his country. I didn't understand that as a kid but I get it now."

A silence passed for a moment, the scratching of the psychiatrists' pen against the yellow pad like the grinding of nails on a chalkboard.

"When is the last time you talked with your father?"

"Before I left for Iraq."

Scratch, scratch.

"You two don't seem to be on speaking terms."

"I have a question." Interrupting, Sydney finally looked up from her lap. "I thought I was here to talk about my trauma in the line of duty - the P.T.S.D. and such."

"I'd like to know a little bit about you first…if that's okay. I don't want to just jump into the lake without knowing how to swim." The older woman sighed, tossing the notepad on the coffee table and removing her glasses. "Let's cut the bullshit, okay, Sydney? You're stuck here with me – and though I've read up on your military record, quite impressive I might add, there are things that I personally would like to discuss with you before we get to Iraq. Is that okay with you?"

"I don't think I have much of a choice. Part of my disability approval requires therapy."

"Good. So…tell me about your dad. Was there ever a time where you weren't disappointed by his marriage to the military?"

Sydney frowned as her eyes once again fixated on her lap. The frown faded as she slowly nodded, "there…there is one memory I have from when I was a kid. When I was ten-years old I was on the local area soccer team and we'd made the championships. I remember being so upset that my dad wasn't going to be there. I mean…I knew he was overseas but I didn't know that meant he couldn't come back whenever he wanted to, you know? So it was the championship game and we're tied up one to one, and…and I was in goal. This big black car rolled up and he stepped out and I just…I just ran to him. They scored and we lost the game, but I didn't care I was just…just glad to see my daddy. But…that was when I was ten. Things changed when I enlisted and then got worse when my mom died."

"Could you tell me about that? The death of your mother?" The blonde woman was writing several notes but looked up when the silence lasted longer than normal. The terrified look on the young soldier's face made her back off on the questions and set her notepad down. She flashed a comforting smile with a shake of her head.

"Maybe next time. That was good for today. I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"

Sydney nodded as she hobbled to her feet, the doctor grabbing the crutches and handing them over. "Thanks for sharing that with me, Sydney. We'll tackle the other stuff soon, okay?"

"Thanks, Dr. Barnett."

Maneuvering down the hallways, getting pretty good on the crutches after three weeks, Sydney pushed the swinging door open and re-entered the lobby. Emily smiled and shoved her book into her large purse before standing up and pulling the surprised young woman into a warm hug.

"I'm proud of you, Sydney."

Laughing, she brushed the compliment aside. "It was the first meeting; she basically asked me what my name was and about my relationship with my dad. Typical shrink."

"Well, baby steps, dearie, baby steps. You have to crawl before you can walk."

The bright sun nearly blinded them both as they loaded up into the car and drove out of the lot. "How about some lunch? It'll be on me," Sydney announced, "as a thanks for being my chauffeur today."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, honey. I'd just be sitting at home thinking about Michael anyway, it's good to get out. What do you feel like eating?"

Settling on Thai food, the restaurant packed, Sydney gave Emily her order before picking a table against the wall to keep people from tripping over her crutches. She was almost getting used to the stares, though she wished it was less noticeable and that people were more subtle. If she was in uniform, like today, she would get the occasional man that would salute as he passed, some that would flash the U.S.M.C. emblem tattoo on their arm or leg or shoulder and give a wink.

This crowd was really no different though they went back to their meals as Emily arrived with the dishes in her hand. "Here you go, Pad Thai."

"I didn't realize how hungry I was," Sydney mumbled as the sprinkled the peanuts over the noodles and stirred it up before digging in. "This was truly the one thing that drove me crazy about Iraq. No Pad Thai."

They shared laughs and stories as lunch passed, a group of Marines walking in and sitting across from the pair. Sydney looked over, recognition dawning on her face.

"Weiss?"

The young man turned at the sound of his name, confused for a moment that someone outside of this group would know it, especially his last name. Upon seeing the woman across from him he whooped with a smile, tossing his napkin back on the table and leaping out of his seat which caused it to topple over onto the floor.

"Holy shit!" he shouted before jumping the small distance between the tables as she simultaneously hopped up and vaulted into his hug.

Emily couldn't help but smile as the other Marines just carried on with their conversation, apologizing to the folks around them as they righted the chair. "You know how Marines are," one said, eliciting a laugh from a group of college girls behind them, a waggle of the eyebrows making them whisper back and forth.

"Oh my god, you look great compared to the last time I saw you. I'm glad you made it out!" Though her words were muffled against his jacket he nodded and pulled back, cupping her face and wiping at her tears.

"C'mon, you stitched me up…of course I made it out."

The young man excused himself from his party, pulling out an open seat and joining Sydney and Emily.

"I take it you're a friend of Sydney's?"

"Weiss, Eric Weiss. I was her chopper pilot for two tours. Woulda been three if I hadn't gotten shot down."

"Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah, that was a nasty one." He grinned, leaning back in his seat.

Sydney nodded with a laugh, "you don't have to tell me that, I was there."

"What happened?" Emily asked, concern mixing with curiosity in her eyes.

"God, Weiss, how long had we been there?"

"Four weeks."

"Four weeks in we get a call to resupply this outpost, so we fly out. As we're coming in an RPG hits the tail and we spin out of control. I gotta give him credit though; he set it down as easy as he could. I got lucky and ended up getting tossed out just before it hit the ground."

"That's lucky?"

Sydney waffled a bit realizing that they weren't talking to another Marine but a civilian who had no idea what it was like over there, aside from the stories on the news. "After the chopper hit the ground it spun on its side, the blades snapping and flying all over the place. So I'm about ten feet away trying to figure out what the hell just happened after eating more than a mouthful of dirt. I hightail it over to the chopper to see if everyone was…well…alive. Weiss was messed up to say the least."

She paused in her storytelling as the memories of her dear friend injured in the dust flashed through her mind, as well as the other events that had unfolded that day.

"The door had bent in on impact shoving its way through my flight suit and into my stomach so yeah…I was pretty messed up. We had to call for another chopper which took about fifteen minutes, and until then Bristow kept me awake and wrapped me up while taking care of the other two medics and the co-pilot. All in all she was amazing; stabilizing a broken arm, a fractured hip and leg and my gaping stomach. Oh…and the broken back that Jackson, the co-pilot, had. All while taking out the terrorists and probably single-handedly winning the war without anyone knowing."

Emily was stunned into silence as her mouth hung open. "Wow…that's incredible."

"If it wasn't for Bristow here, I wouldn't be alive."

"Yes you would…you're too stubborn to die."

"Hey - I'm sorry about the leg," he looked shy for a moment as he back-tracked, not sure if he should have brought it up. Sydney just waved him off as she took another bite of her noodles.

"Neither of us had great luck in that damn country, did we? Afghanistan was weirdly way better."

"Yeah," she whispered poking at a leftover piece of chicken on her plate.

They shared a moment of silence, Weiss wiggling his eyebrows. "Wanna see my scar?"

The women laughed and asked for a rain check, Sydney and Eric trading information before exchanging another hug and leaving the restaurant into the cooling afternoon.

"That was an amazing story, Sydney; you're lucky you survived. Both of you are."

Shrugging she placed the crutches into the backseat and climbed into the front. The beginning of the drive was quiet, Emily seeing that her passenger was lost in thought so she let her be.

"Bristow, you'd better get your ass in gear! That sand storm's coming in, we gotta go!"

"You're as patient as ever, Weiss. You survived weekend leave, eh? You get laid?"

Weiss grabbed the spare medical pack from her hands and tossed it into the chopper before pulling his friend in for a hug. "It's good to see you too, Syd. You ready for another fun-filled adventure in the Middle East?"

"Ha! 'Fun-filled'. Riiight," she sassed, hopping in along with two other medics carrying several crates of supplies.

The desert below whipped past as a dust storm in the distance limited their vision to one or two kilometers. "Do we know what we're flying into and why we're doing it as a sandstorm blows in?"

"Just a supply drop, routine shit for you Mr. Pilot."

"Bitch," he growled over the headset as the crew laughed, the co-pilot punching him in the arm.

"Be respectful! She's not only a girl but a higher ranked girl!"

A few minutes passed as they hovered a click away from the coordinates, the wind rocking the chopper as the town of tents sat in the distance. "Can you radio them to meet us here? With the wind and the dust I don't have a clue where the fucking landing zone is. They either meet us here or we crash into the tents and die."

"God, you're such a baby! Echo three, echo three, do you copy?"

"This is echo three, identify yourself, over."

"This is Medical Chopper one zero five four seven with your supply drop. We're about a click from the camp and need a Humvee rendezvous to drop off. The pilot says, and I quote, 'I'm a baby and can't see the landing zone', end quote."

"Ha ha, copy that. We'll get a team together. ETA ten minutes."

A few minutes went by before one of the medics moved in his seat and squinted against the blowing sand. "Hey…I think I see movement out there."

"C'mon Paxton, there's nothing out there but dirt and camels. There's no way any of our guys are here yet."

"No…I'm not fucking around. There's a group of guys out there."

Weiss rolled his eyes, keeping the chopper as level as he could. "Bullshit, the desert's messing with you. Get back in your seat."

Paxton watched as a flash of light illuminated the billowing dirt, an RPG careening toward the chopper. "RPG! RPG!"

It exploded into the tail taking most of it out as the helicopter began to spin out of control. "Fuck! We're going down! Hold on to something," Weiss yelled as the instruments on the panel beeped and blared, the medics in the back clinging to whatever they could find as Sydney realized she hadn't hooked up to the connection point.

Their close proximity to the ground meant that they didn't have far to fall, though the spinning made it difficult to flatten it out so it landed on its stomach. Fighting with the pedals as much as he could he flipped over to another channel on the radio. "This is medic chopper one zero five four seven going down in the dirt. Send heli rescue ASAP! Current location is-"

The damaged tail hit the ground first stopping the rotation but causing it to jerk to the right before listing left, Sydney tossed from the open side in the commotion, her hands in the process of trying to clip in. The chopper landed hard on its left side, the blades slicing through the sand and snapping off before the engine stopped and everything lay still.

The dust storm raged around her as she tried to gather her bearings. Her side throbbed, the medic bag slung over her shoulder not the softest thing to land on, and she was fairly sure that she had one if not more broken ribs from the fall. Her head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton, the ringing in her ears forced her to lie on her back for a moment to collect herself. Sitting as quickly as she could she shook her head to try and clear her doubling vision before rising and stumbling over to the chopper.

"Weiss! Paxton!"

The chopper was lying to the left side, a broken prop holding it up at a slight angle, and she removed the medical bag from around her shoulder. "Incoming," she shouted before tossing it into the opening and moving to the co-pilots door. Yanking it open she noted that he was struggling against his harness with a grimace of pain written across his face.

"Hold still, Jackson. Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"My…my back feels weird."

"Okay. I need you to leave your harness on, okay? Don't release it, it'll hold you in till rescue gets here. If your back is broken you could paralyze yourself if you move. Understand?"

He nodded, his hands relaxing and going limp across his lap.

Sydney stepped up into the open door and used that leverage to get onto the side of the chopper and into the large opening. Both medics were lying against the wall, sand blanketing the inside of the aircraft through the broken side windows, the wall now the floor due to the tilted angle. The supply boxes were still tied in the cargo net behind the seats and she pulled out the knife from her boot and sliced the fabric away to access the cases.

"Bristow?"

"Hey, Paxton, how you doin'?"

"Fuck…I…I think my arm is broken." Attempting to sit up he clutched his right arm as it hung limply down at his side.

Maneuvering across to him she ordered, "hold on to your arm, okay?" As he complied she grabbed the front of his vest and hefted him up into something of a sitting position before letting him recline back against the wall. Crawling to their medical supplies, several tossed around the fuselage, she was happy that she found what she needed. Pulling out a sling, securing it around his arm and neck to keep it stable, she knelt in front of him.

"Hey, look at me." Removing the small flashlight from her front pocket she clicked it, though it didn't turn on. The glass at the front was broken, the bulb as well, so she tossed it out of the side of the wreck in frustration. Snagging Paxton's from his pocket it clicked on and she shone it into his eyes. "You have a concussion so you need to stay awake, alright? Stay awake. If you feel yourself starting to fall asleep, I need you to start talking to me, okay?"

"Yeah yeah…I'm a medic too." A smile passed his lips and she couldn't help but grin before turning her attention to the other medic.

The other young man lay on his side, unconscious in a crumpled position. "Hey, James? C'mon…James!" He didn't wake so she did a cursory check to make sure that she'd be able to move him into an upright position. Sitting him up he groaned as his eyes flew open in pain.

"Good…good. I need you to tell me where it hurts, okay?"

"My…my hip. God…oh god it…it hurts!" His cries didn't go unheeded, Sydney figuring a broken upper leg or hip bone. Laying him back down he calmed a bit, Bristow flattening him out and putting a spare sling under his cheek to cushion his head. "Better?"

"Yeah…a little."

"Good. Sit tight, okay? Rescue's on its way." Checking his eyes she was surprised that he didn't have a concussion like both her and Paxton, so she let him pass out.

"Weiss?"

Climbing over the seats and into the front of the chopper she spotted him lying against the door, the broken glass scattered around his head and chest. "Weiss?"

He was unconscious so she clambered as quickly and carefully as she could in next to him. Undoing the harness he slumped farther down, a groan escaping his lips. "Weiss? Wake up." Slapping his cheek gently his eyes parted and he looking up at her. "Hey there, how you doin?"

"What…happened?"

"Well…you crashed the chopper," she mock scolded, leaning in to grab at the front of his vest. "Anything broken?"

"I didn't crash, I got shot down. Umm…my side feels weird, but probably because I landed on it."

"Can you sit up you think?"

"Yeah…I think. I'm really dizzy,"

"It's probably a concussion, I have one too. C'mon, Let's get you up a bit."

Hefting him towards her he groaned, the tightness of his side worsening. Looking down where he'd been lying he spotted blood. "Whoa, stop."

"What?"

"Blood, Syd…lots of blood. Lots…lots of my blood."

"Shit," she growled, climbing up to sit on the panel where she saw the jagged piece of the door as it jutted up towards the pilot, the red blood coating the side where he'd been lying. "Oh shit…"

"That bad, huh?"

"Umm…I…I can fix it, hang on."

Ignoring the throbbing of her side she vaulted herself back into the interior and began digging through the first crate. Voices from outside made her stop, relief coursing through her as she assumed the Humvees had arrived to find the chopper crashed in the dirt. Arabic wafted on the wind, Sydney freezing where she stood.

They began yelling, two shots firing and causing her to jump. Paxton's eyes opened as she shushed him, reaching for the M-16 lying next to him in the sand and glass. They continued to shout, Jackson's voice echoing through the hollow interior.

"Just…just wait…hang on," he begged, Sydney staying low though she heard the sound of jingling as they unbuckled his harness. Watching up front she saw him disappear as he was hauled out of the chopper.

"Shit!" Her hands shook terribly as she made sure the weapon was loaded, cocking it as quietly as she could. Crawling her way up to the front she peeked out of the open door as three insurgents armed with AK-47's, one carrying a reloaded RPG launcher, stood over the injured co-pilot ordering him to do what she assumed was sit up.

"I can't, okay? I can't get up, I can't move. NO move."

They removed his pistol from his hip and placed it in a pocket, shouting at him in Arabic. When he didn't comply they kicked him, his cry of pain making her wince.

Weiss whispered, "what the fuck is going on?"

"Shh, shut up. Don't say a thing."

Climbing out as best as she could, the M-16 at an awkward angle due to the constraints inside the cockpit she got to a position where she could aim it out the door. Fighting past the blurred and double vision and the pain from broken ribs, she aimed and pulled the trigger.

"Sydney? You okay?"

Emily's quiet voice jarred her from her memory, and she looked around her to see that they were parked in front of Will and Francie's apartment. "God, I'm sorry, Emily. I was just thinking about stuff, I didn't mean to be away for so long."

"It's okay, sweetheart. Look, why don't you come by on Saturday, we'll do lunch. I can pick you up if you need."

"Yeah…that sounds good. Thanks again for the ride, I really appreciate it."

They shared an awkward hug over the center console, Emily kissing her forehead as if she was a child. "Call me if you need, okay?"

"Okay," she promised, flashing a dimpled smile. Gathering her crutches she made her way up the walk and to the door, maneuvering the key and finally opening the door. Turning and waving Emily drove away, Sydney walking into the air-conditioned living room.

The house was quiet, Will still at work and Francie still at the restaurant, so she took the opportunity to retreat to her bedroom and flop on her back on the padded blankets of her bed.

She could still hear the ear-rattling shots of the M-16 as it reverberated through the cockpit and she couldn't help but see the jerking motion of the insurgents as they were hit by her barrage, the sand beginning to cover them instantly after their bodies fell to the ground.

Staying quiet she waited a moment, the men lying in the sand as Jackson moved about, attempting to crawl back toward the chopper. Looping the shoulder strap around her neck she climbed up and out, landing with a groan and falling into the sand. Crawling over to Jackson she lowered the visor from his helmet over his eyes to keep the sand from getting in, putting a hand to his chest to let him know that he was okay.

He panicked and began throwing him arms about the second he felt someone touching him. "Whoa! Jackson, it's me; it's Bristow. Stop!"

He calmed a bit, opening his eyes to see her kneeling over him. She stood and wrapped her arms under his armpits, hooking her hands over his chest, and began to drag him back over to the chopper. "I'm going to lay you here, okay? I don't want to move you any more than you've already been moved, so keep that visor over your eyes so the sand stays out. Can I get you anything?"

"Thank you, Bristow. You…you saved my ass."

Squeezing his hand she reached down to her side and pulled out her pistol, placing it in his hand. "Use this if you need it, okay?"

He nodded and she climbed back into the chopper, looking down at Weiss. He was deathly pale and had his eyes closed as he rested his head against the sand and broken glass. "Eric? You still with me?"

"Sure," he wheezed, Sydney taking it as a good sign that he was awake, even if it was barely awake.

Moving into the back she reassured Paxton as he sat with his pistol in his hand. "You keep watch, okay? If anyone tries to get in that isn't a Marine, you shoot 'em. Understood?"

"Okay." His teeth were chattering from what she assumed was shock and likely rattled nerves from the shooting that had happened, but this allowed him to focus on something to keep him awake.

The gauze wasn't in the first case, Sydney growling as she picked it up and threw it out into the sand, aiming for the rear of the chopper so it wouldn't land on Jackson outside. Diving into the second crate she grabbed as much as she could get her hands on, lifting the medic bag back up and wrapping it around with the M-16 she filled it to the brim. Maneuvering over to their supplies she pulled out two bags of blood and an I.V. kit blinking past the throbbing headache that was beginning to settle in.

"You know…we're gonna have to make a second supply drop," Paxton grumbled, his frank words making her stop for a moment. A grin crossed her face and she couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up.

"It'd be just our luck, wouldn't it?"

He laughed along with her, Sydney patting the top of his helmet as she climbed back up into the front. Peering out at the insurgents she noted that they were right where she'd left them so she turned her attention back to Weiss.

"Hey…let's get you wrapped up."

"Sounds fun," he whispered, his voice barely audible, and she grabbed her surgical scissors from her vest and began to cut away his flight suit around the tear that the jagged metal had made. Getting down to the wound she stopped, watching the blood pulse out slowly, and sighed.

"Yeah - fun," she grumbled, grabbing a roll of gauze and cutting it into long strips before bundling them together. "Okay, I need to put some gauze straight into the wound, okay? I'm going to try and pack it before I wrap it. It's gonna suck, but you can't move okay? You can't move, and I can't hold you down."

Weiss groaned, "hooray" sarcastically before nodding that he understood, Sydney's hands gentle as they could be. He moaned and thrashed his head back and forth, the medic pausing for a minute to wad up some gauze and shove it into his mouth to give him something to bite down on that wasn't his own teeth or tongue.

"Alrighty…all packed. You're gonna be fine, Weiss, I promise, okay?" She sat back up and hooked one of the blood bags above them on a dial for some flight instrument. Cutting the sleeve of his arm she closed one eye to stave off the blurriness of her concussion in an attempt to find a vein for the I.V. needle. After a single mis-poke she was successful as life-saving blood flowed into the pilot's pale body.

Spitting out the gauze he brought one hand up to wipe at the tears that had fallen. "What did you say?"

"I said you're gonna be fine," she mumbled as she checked the flow and taped it to the skin at the crook of his arm.

"You…aww shit. I'm…I'm gonna die aren't I?"

She couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes as he fixed his frightened brown gaze on her face. "Oh, honey, you're not gonna die. You're too stubborn to die."

Wrapping as she talked quietly to him, she used six out of the eight rolls of gauze around his middle. It wouldn't hold for long, but hopefully just long enough.

"Bristow! Hey!" Jackson shouted from outside, Sydney squeezing Weiss' shoulder as she peered out the open door.

"What?"

"Lights," he pointed tiredly ahead, three Humvees rolling up as the ground shook around them. A second Black Hawk began its descent a couple dozen feet away throwing the sand around even more than before.

"Weiss, the chopper's here, okay? We'll get you back and I'll sew up you, I promise. Paxton…Paxton don't shoot, they're friendlies, okay?"

"Okay," he shouted back, his pistol falling to his side as he relaxed against the wall.

Sydney climbed out as best as she could, opting to fall to the sand below than try and make a decent landing. Feeling hands help her up she stood and saw another team loading up Jackson onto a stretcher. "He's likely got a broken back, be gentle with him. We've got the pilot inside, Category alpha, the door sliced his side open. I've got the wound packed and he's getting blood, but we'll have to get him into surgery ASAP. Two medics in the back have a broken hip or leg, and a broken arm."

"Shit…you did this all yourself?"

"I'm a doctor, it's what I'm supposed to do," she answered, the group putting a bottle of water in her hand and leaving to get the wounded out of the crash site. Sliding down with her back against the metal she sat in the blowing sand at the front of the wreck until she was loaded into the Black Hawk along with Weiss.

"Hey Syd? You home?" Will's voice echoed through the house, her reply bringing him back into her room. "How was therapy."

She shrugged and stayed on her back as she studied the ceiling. "I…I killed people over there, Will. Three people."

He leaned on the door frame and looked over at her with sympathetic eyes. "Did you save anyone?"

"Over fifty civilians and soldiers."

"Then it was worth it."

...