You guys are awesome. No other words. I can't thank you enough for the reviews. This chapter is the last chapter before another time skip. But I think it's important and you'll see a flashback that some of you have been asking for. Not to mention, you get to see the friendship between the guys. And that's important. One of the things that is something some people don't realize... not everyone makes it home from war. People die and those who do make it back, sometimes do without their friends. I got very close with one guy I supported and we were talking about our lives and got onto the topic of holidays and what we would create if we could create one. He said he'd create a day for combat veterans. He said he understands that everyone makes a sacrifice, but some don't realize just how much they truly give up. He said he'd like to honor the friends he'd lost over the years while deployed. It sent chills down my spine, not because of the literal words, but because at that point, it didn't even really sink in there are more than just the every day sacrifices they make. They make friendships, they bond and become brothers with guys who sometimes don't make it back. So... much like Ally did in the last chapter... if you see a veteran somewhere, and you're feeling brave... tell them you appreciate them. It will make their day.

Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Ally felt her heart screaming in her chest, warning her that something was wrong. The woman looked haunted by her, her eyes locked on the dog tags her hands were clinging too. She felt herself feeling frantic, hoping that Cassidy would make an entrance and save her from the impending conversation with the staring at her. She couldn't think of an answer or what she had asked, and the woman offered no sense of relief.

"What do you want?" she finally asked, finding her voice.

The woman seemed to clear her head. "I'm sorry. I … I thought I recognized the name on your… necklace. I must have been mistaken. You're dating a soldier?"

Ally forced herself to smile. "He's a really good friend. I'm not so sure we're dating."

The woman grew quiet for a moment and then added, "Is he happy?"

"Excuse me?" The question threw her off.

"I… nevermind. I apologize. Did you need help with anything?"

Ally shook her head and finally remembered how to move. "Excuse me. I need to find my friend."

She took off a moment later, feeling her stomach unclench from the fear, nearly running into her friend, who looked completely pissed off. "This place isn't that nice," she snapped. "I think I'll go to IKEA. Forget it." She seemed to finally notice how pale her friend was. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ally answered, glancing back over to the woman who still had her eyes on the younger girl. Her chills returned. "I'll tell you in the car. I want to get out of here."

Letters from Home

Austin sat on the couch, fidgeting as he waited for his parents to return from work that day. He held several papers in his hands, his fingers gently curling over them, holding them steady and firm so they wouldn't fold. He glanced at the clock, noticing it was several minutes past five. It meant that any minute, the door would open and his parents, Mimi and Mike Moon, owners of Mimi's Mattresses would enter the door, chatting about their days, and acting like typical, boring suburban parents that he had to say he was sick of.

A car door closed from the window and he could hear his mom talking happily about the recipe she had wanted to try that night. Her father was listening, he was sure, probably worried about what might happen if her idea ran south. He thought about the night ahead of him, and how long it would take for him to be outside, alone.

It was clear from the moment he'd talk to the man at the office, that his life would be different. He was Austin Moon, son of his parents, expected to fulfill their wishes and become the next owner of their store. He wanted nothing of it, but his parents didn't know that. They just gushed about how he'd get his degree at the local college, and take over when they decided it was time. Never once did they ask what he wanted, never once was his happiness taken into consideration. In their defense, he never spoke up. But it was their job to ask.

The door opened, and their voices floated into the hallway. The lights came on and his father laughed at something his mother said. "Austin, son? Are you home?"

Austin cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'll be there in a second."

They made their way into the kitchen, the sound of chatter filling his ears. His mother never stopped talking, and usually that calmed him. Today it just continued to make his heart pound. He looked down at his enlistment papers one last time and stood, following his mother's laughter into the kitchen.

"Hello Austin," she said cheerily as he stepped inside. The sweat beaded on his forehead, and she immediately sensed something was wrong. Her fingers dropped the recipe in her hand, and her attention became solely on him. That meant it would only take seconds for his father to follow. Being their only son, he'd gotten more attention then he sometimes wanted growing up.

"Austin?" Mike asked, his voice rising in concern. "You look unwell. Is everything alright?"

His father was much more business like. He was to the point. Clear. He ran the financial aspect of their store, while his mother reeled in the customers with her charm. He supposed he was more like his mother, anyway.

"Yeah," he lied, smiling weakly. "Just needed to talk to you both."

"Of course, sweetie," his mother gushed, immediately coming towards her son. Her eyes fell onto the boy's papers, and her smile fell. "What is that?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He walked closer. "I know that the summer is coming to an end and that you expect me to get ready to take over, or at least train to. But I thought maybe that…"

"What is it, son?"

Austin didn't know what to do. His mother seemed concerned, but it was like his father knew. His arms had already crossed and his eyes had narrowed. He was in the stance where it became clear. Don't fuck with him.

"I enlisted into the army," he said quickly, closing his eyes.

It took all of two seconds for his father to erupt. There were curses, shouting, and even insults thrown his way. "You will not," he finally said once his fit was over. "Join the military. You will not join a war that will have you sent back to me in a box. You are not a dumb, easily influenced idiot who couldn't get into college so he joined the military. You are smart and going to succeed with us, Austin. Is that clear?"

"It's too late. I already signed the papers."

His father punched the wall. He literally put his fist into the wall, startling both his mother and him.

She just seemed disappointed. Her eyes were cast to the floor and she was playing with her shirt, like she couldn't bear to look at him.

"You will not do this! I want to speak to whoever you talked with. There is a misunderstanding, Austin. This is not how it works. You are going to run the store, and that's final."

"No, I'm not."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped. His face felt raw suddenly and it dawned on him that his father had just stridden up to him and slapped him across the face. "The fuck are you trying to do?"

Austin had no answer. He expected a fight, but nothing like this. His father sounded disgusted with him. "Joining the military. Going to murder people and get paid for it. I thought we raised you better than this, Austin. We raised you a good person."

Austin still didn't know what to say to that. There weren't words.

"I leave in two weeks," he said quietly.

His father backed up, and walked up the stairs. He heard slamming, and seconds later, some of his things were being thrown down the steps. Clothes, his guitar, and even some of his favorite books were thrown harshly down the hall. "What the hell are you doing?" Austin yelled.

His mother even seemed shocked. She still wouldn't look at him. His father came back down the stairs and his parents locked eyes for a second. He turned to his son, opening the door. "You leave tonight," he spat.

Letters from Home

"Holy fuck, it's cold outside," Rocky said, glaring at the sky like it would suddenly change the weather. Austin sat up from his seat in the humvee, rolling his eyes. His friend had no problem with being vulgar most of the time, and this mission was no different. Halloween had just passed and the temperatures had still been pretty warm, but this day was different. It had dipped into the forties and for two boys from the southern part of the United States, this was unbearable.

"Shut up and keep watch," Austin grumbled back, taking off his hat momentarily, to look at his girlfriend. "We'll be back to base by tonight. Just try and not get us killed."

"Trish asked to be my girlfriend," Dez said happily from the seat next to him, as he eyed the picture his friend stared at. "I said yes."

Austin nodded. "Good. You're good for each other. Took long enough."

"She's stubborn," he explained. "Doesn't like to pretend she likes me."

"Anyone likes you?"

"Shut up, man!"

The three of them laughed as they drove down a deserted street in some small town just outside of one of the biggest Taliban controlled areas of the country. The time they spent outside the base, despite how dangerous, was one of Austin's favorite parts of the deployment. When they were just driving, no constant battle, and learning about each other, he loved. There wasn't fear, there was just a group of guys who were in the same crappy place, trying to survive and get back.

"So, you finally are calling her your girl, too, right?"

Austin nodded. "Yeah, we finally agreed that's what we are."

"You're ridiculous," the brunette said back.

He shrugged and glanced behind them at the humvee that happened to be trailing theirs. Other members of their platoon followed, each keeping careful check of what were their surroundings. Even the smallest object could be a bomb just carefully waiting to go off. He tried not to think about it, but sometimes he wondered if he would even make it home to see her again. It seemed like a cruel trick, make him fall in love for him only to die in a piece of shit land.

"Man, you okay?"

The noise didn't come first. At first, it felt like a flat tire, sending them spiraling off the dirt road, and then the truck was flipping and digging into the dirt, the smell of hot metal filling his nose. They tumbled for a few minutes before coming to a stop, upside down in a ditch. Behind him, as he turned, he could see a fire and one of the other humvees in what he could only put together as pieces.

"Fuck," he muttered, hanging from his seatbelt, trying to come undone. It was clear they had missed the brunt of the bomb, but had still gone into the air. He eyed the other for a second more until he heard a groan and his head whipped to the other side of his own humvee. Dez was groaning to his left, his head bleeding profusely. He quickly undid his seatbelt, tumbling with his gear onto ripped metal, sending shooting pain down his side.

"Dez?"

"Ah, shit, Trish is gonna kill me," he mumbled.

"Hey, how bad are you hit?" His friend didn't answer. "Dez? Come on man, answer me. Open your eyes."

"Fuck," another voice said and Rocky stumbled out of his own seat, landing close to him, He too was bleeding, but seemed to be in better shape than his friend who was driving. "You okay, man?"

"Fine," Austin said curtly, ignoring the pain in his side. "Dez… Worthy!"

His friend's eyes shot open and he gasped in pain. "Hey," Rocky said. "You with us, man?"

He groaned. "Maybe."

"We're gonna get you out of here, just a second, okay?"

Austin eyed his other friend, noting that while he couldn't see any other injuries on the man, he wasn't sure how hurt either of them were. "Dez, can you move your legs and arms?"

He nodded weakly. "My head kind of hurts…"

The large piece of metal sticking out from inside of it could be a reason. And the blood. He crawled out of the humvee, noticing other members of the platoon running his way, including one of the medics. "We need a medevac!" he yelled over the sound of the fire.

The other man nodded, trying to see into the car. "How bad?"

"Not sure. He's bleeding pretty bad though."

The other man nodded. "We gotta get him out of there. There is no telling how much gas is in the air right now. Could explode. Help me get him out?"

The two nodded and they entered again, noticing that Rocky was trying to stop the bleeding without interfering too much with the injury. The medic cursed and then began to cut the seatbelt, instructing Austin to get ready to catch him, along with his other friend. They were able to drag him from the humvee with little issue and Austin was glad to see the head injury was the only crisis causing one at that point.

"Hey, Worthy you still with us?"

He nodded weakly. "My head is killing me…"

"Worse than when Trish yells?" Austin said.

That got a smile. "Way worse. Don't tell her that though."

Austin smiled. "Hang in there." His friend raised his hand and he grasped it. "You hang in there."