Levanter

You can measure a man's character by the choices he makes under pressure. – Winston Churchill

Joy finds Matthew walking like a caged lion, several tents further down, and a paramedic running after him, trying to clean up his wounds. He has vicious scratch marks on his face and neck, and his left hand is in a bandage. The paramedic tries to insist on cleaning his face, but Matthew turns to him and growls, and the paramedic gives up. Let them get infected, he thinks as he walks away.

Matthew glances briefly at Joy, and keeps pacing, almost making a wear and tear path on the grass. He totally furious with Sarah, with himself, with the world. ARGH!

Joy folds her arms, and just watches him for some moments, without speaking, and that gets on his nerves even more.

"What?" he stops and turns to his sister. He approaches her menacingly, and towers over her, in all his Marine glory.

"What? Are you going to blame me too?"

"Are you going to say that's my fault?" he hisses, "that I should have gone there and cracked his skull with my bare hands?"

He's fuming, his fury working like a vicious circle: he's furious with Sarah, who is furious with him, and he's getting even more furious because she's furious.

"WHAT?"

Joy studies her brother's face, and sees the fury dangerously threatening to spill. As always when dealing with his sister Joy, she manages to surprise him, saying something that catches him totally out of left field.

"You need to hit something."

"What?" he laughs, but there's no joy in it, he looks at her as if she lost her mind.

"Where do you get these ideas? Are you mad?"

"No, you need to hit something," he looks at her, incredulous, "why don't you try that tree?"

He looks at the tree trunk behind him, thick and fully covered by moss. He walks towards it, and looks at his sister.

"I just have to hit it?"

"Yep, you will feel better afterwards."

Matt gives it a try, and pours all his frustration into the punch. His hand hurts, but damn, she's right, it feels better. He hits three or four times more, until his whole arm hurts.

He stops and looks at his sister, who is looking at him with compassion in her eyes.

"Feeling better?"

He looks down at his hand, sees the broken skin and light bleeding, and the ache somehow seems to soothe his troubled mind and smiles, "believe it or not, yes."

Joy approaches him and carefully gets his hand in her smaller ones, and studies the broken skin, feeling for any irregularity under it.

"I don't think there are any broken bones, but it is better to have it checked out." He keeps staring at her lowered head. At six foot three, he towered over her by at least one foot and two inches, but undoubtedly her personality filled the room whenever she entered in it, as it happened with their own mother.

"You are not going to give me a dressing down, about how irresponsible I was, and how I should have…"

"Sacrificed your life like a fool, putting yourself and the people under your care in danger, just for the pride of being a martyr?" she interrupts him, and looks him in the eye.

"Are you expecting me to judge you?" she stares at her brother, "Just because you went against your training, and your instincts, and decided to protect at all cost your own life and the life of those who were under your responsibility to protect? Just because you had to hurt someone you love to keep them from harm?"

Matt stares brokenheartedly at his sister, and sees her shaking her head, and tears simmering in her eyes, "Sis, I…"

"I can't judge you, Matt, I've done the same thing before."

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