Why hello there! :) I honestly had not planned on being able to update so quickly, but I sat down to write my research paper on PTSD (kind of cool to have that going at the same time as this) and this happened instead. I'm so not complaining because I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I think this is one of my favorite things I've ever written. So thank you to those who got a chance to review the last chapter! I really appreciate your feedback and your encouragement. I love to see you all as enthusiastic for this story as I am. You guys rock! :) Please do enjoy!
I really did it this time.
I think – I'm pretty sure – I know I just crossed over the line of comfort and breached into the war zone.
As soon as I saw Clare sobbing on my doorstep, I felt my own stomach drop. How someone, even her father, could hurt her like that is beyond me. It was the strangest feeling I've ever experienced. Stranger than the nightmares. Stranger than the flashbacks. It was as if I was hurting.
Clare's pain became mine.
Holy shit.
And as if that wasn't warning enough, I just had to go and give her my shirt. I'll admit, I was insanely curious to see if she would be as sexy as I imagined when wearing my clothes. She did not disappoint. As soon as I saw her with her messy hair, the faintest rosy glow on her cheeks, and her tiny frame clad in my Dead Hand shirt, I almost lost it.
I had to fight every fiber of my being that wanted to walk over to her, push her up against the wall, and feel the softness of her lips on mine.
Obviously, the good old conscience stopped me.
Even just a few days ago, I would have understood why. I would have agreed. I would have wanted to walk away.
But damn, after actually having a good rest at her place and getting to know her better, I can't even understand my own restraints anymore.
I still think she'll be disappointed.
I still think she deserves better.
I still think I have nothing to offer her.
But my arms are slowly tiring of their hold at the top of the hole. I just want to let go and fall. Fall deep into everything that is Clare Edwards.
It almost seems as if the walls I've been fighting so hard to hold up are made of the weakest material. One sight of Clare is like a gust of wind coming and trying to tear them down. And the more I see of Clare, the weaker they become. And to be down right honest, I'm getting tired of trying to hold them up.
What sucks like hell about all this is that it isn't even the PTSD holding me back like I'd like to think.
One word.
Five letters.
Julia.
Every time I think about it, I just want to punch a hole in the wall. Before Clare, the shame, the isolation, the punishment I put myself through…all of it made sense. I deserved to be struggling and to be alone. I accepted that. I didn't think there was much better out there for me. I didn't think any sort of light was in my grasp.
After living in the darkness for so long, I got used to it. I got to a point that any light strained my eyes. It hurt more than it helped. So I retreated more and more into the darkness. It's who I am.
Blackness.
The inability to see. The inability to know my surroundings. The inability to know where I am headed.
The uncertainty of the darkness.
It blocked my ability to even imagine something better. All I could see was the darkness surrounding me. At first, I was terrified of it. But like I said, I got used to it. It became a part of me.
I knew who I was.
And then this, this blue-eyed warmth managed to make it past all the defenses I had worked for years to set in place. She persisted no matter what obstacles I set in her way.
She found me in the darkness.
At first, I strained away. The light hurt my eyes. I wasn't used to it. I didn't know anything about it. It didn't make sense.
But after adjusting to her warmth and care over time, I came to get used to it much like I got used to the darkness.
What started as a tiny candle without much light has grown into a burning flame.
It would make sense to get away. Who wants to get burned after all, right?
I can't explain it, but I remember something from way back in high school. English always was one of my favorite subjects. I remember a lecture on symbolism. What the hell was that phrase again? Oh yeah, some shit about rising from the ashes and becoming purified.
I blew that idea off like it was a bunch of other crap they force into us in high school.
But maybe I just didn't get it. Maybe it does have some sort of relevance unlike the other things we're taught.
Clare's presence overwhelms me in the best way. Her fire covers me and yet, I don't fear it as I should. I can see myself become better after being burned down. As if I actually have a chance to restart.
Redemption.
I would never have seen it in the works for me. But Clare has changed everything. I really don't know how she did it, but she managed to give me something I haven't had in years. Something I had let go of for so long. Something I had lost all chance of recovering.
Hope.
And even though I'm finally beginning to embrace her flame, a single memory of Julia has the chance to extinguish it. To extinguish it and leave me with the darkness once again. Cold and alone.
I know it's my own fucking fault. I'm forcing myself to remember, to feel like shit. It's pretty damn masochistic, even for me. Now that I know how amazing Clare can make me feel, it's almost as if I fall back on my shame just to bring myself more pain. It's ridiculous.
It's fucking disturbing, that's what it is.
Can't argue with that.
So now I'm at a crossroads. I can stay where I am or I can more forward with Clare by my side. She's made her feelings pretty damn obvious and that kills me more than anything. I haven't given her much to work with and yet she feels something for me. She's given me so much in just a matter of days and yet here I am trying to force myself away from her.
She doesn't deserve that. She deserves better. I mean, I can't even find one thing wrong with her. She's gentle, patient, honest. To put it bluntly, she is everything I never knew I wanted, but somehow I need.
And I'll be damned if I walk away.
I feel like complete shit for keeping so much from her. If I ever do tell her about Julia and the real war stories which I can never imagine myself doing, she'll want to sprint out the door as fast as she can. And I won't even be able to blame her for it.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Her smooth voice sounds through the mist of my mind.
I look up from my seat at the couch and watch her come back from the bathroom in her newly dried clothes.
"These you really wouldn't want to know," I tell her while spinning the bottle of beer I've been drinking on my thigh.
"Well now you've really sparked my interest," she comments with a laugh before taking a seat on the couch and facing me. She draws her knees up and wraps her arms around her legs. I can see her smiling from my peripheral vision.
I continue to focus on the continuous motion of my hand as I choose to ignore her. I am no where near ready to share all that with her. Besides, I'm still debating whether I should kick her out and save her the trouble now or just push her against the cushions of the couch and attack our lips together.
Neither sounds smart at the moment.
I sneak a glance at her. She scoots closer to me eagerly. "Can I help you?" I chuckle as she continues to stare at me.
"What were you thinking about?" She asks again.
I shake my head. "Not telling."
"Come on, Eli. You can tell me."
Damn it, Clare. Stop being so stubborn.
"I find it funny how you expect me to talk even if I don't want to, but I didn't push you to tell me how you were feeling earlier. It's called respecting people's space. You should learn it," I tell her in a rough voice before getting up from my seat and walking towards the kitchen. I set the bottle down next to the sink and rest my hands on the counter.
I don't know what just came over me. I wasn't even that mad. I remember the psychiatrist telling me that a lot of people who suffer from PTSD have mood swings and can be irritable. Great, just great. Fuck this stupid diagnosis.
I hear the soft padding of her footsteps enter the kitchen. I keep my back turned to her.
"I waited for two hours," her voice sounds out softly. "He told me he would be there when his meeting ended. Either it never ended or he just didn't want to show up. I just wish he would have called and told me. It would've saved me the embarrassment of telling the waitress to wait and wait and wait on the order until my dad came." I hear her take a quick gasp of air. "That's not fair, right? He's the one who screwed up our family and yet I'm the one who tried, who made the effort today. Shouldn't it be him? Shouldn't he be coming to my door and begging me to let him back into my life? I'm just so exhausted, Eli. I'm tired of giving the man who cheated on my mom and left our family countless second chances. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough for him, but his new family and job are. I'm tired of acting like I'm okay when I'm not," I hear her let out a sob. I grip the counter tighter as I feel her emotions become mine as they did earlier. "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to help you. I just don't want you to ever feel the way I do. Like you're not good enough. Like there's something wrong with you."
There has got to be a word better than angel. Even angel has ceased to do her goodness justice.
I take a breath before turning around and coming face to face with her. I watch as a few tears slide down her face and I'm compelled with the urge to wipe them away like I did to Julia so many years ago when she came crying to me about problems with her stepmom. But if I was being honest, I feel more drawn to Clare than anyone else I've ever experienced. I not only have to help Clare, I want to.
"But there is something wrong with me," I tell her in a hoarse voice fighting against the sudden dryness taking over my throat.
Clare takes a few steps towards me. "What you're dealing with does not mean there is something wrong with you."
I shake my head. "I need therapy sessions and you're telling me I'm normal?"
"I'm telling you that you're still Eli. The PTSD doesn't define you."
"Your dad doesn't define you and yet he's still making you feel that way," I counter.
She remains quiet for a few moments and I fear I may have hurt her with those words. "Then don't be like me. Don't be weak enough to let someone, or something, else control you," she tells me in a soft voice dripping with vulnerability.
I take in another breath as I ponder over her words. Might as well…"I had another flashback yesterday," I confess as I look down at the ground. "After my appointment. I came home and saw some things."
I hear her take a few more steps forward. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
I look up at her and cling to her eyes for support as I nod my head much to the reluctance of my walls that are still straining to be held up.
She offers me a small smile. "I'm glad. You can tell me anything whenever you're ready."
I stare at the cabinets above her head as I feel myself being drawn back to the horrific images of that day. "It was a night raid. We were told some insurgents were hiding in a home near one of the larger cities in Iraq. There was enough intelligence to fear that they would do something the next day. Probably a suicide bombing since those were so damn common." I stop speaking as the sounds of the screaming women echo in my mind.
"She says she isn't hiding any men," the translator informs us.
I look around the small room as the women and her friends continue to shriek at us in a foreign language I still have yet to pick up and strain my eyes to see anything. I nudge the man next to me. "There's a light coming from that door," I whisper as I point my gun in that same direction.
"Ask her where that door leads to," the leader of our platoon, Sean Cameron, orders. We wait a few moments as the translator speaks with the women.
"She says it leads to a basement, but they have no use for it."
Bullshit. Cameron beats me to it.
"Dave, down those stairs. Now!" I hear him yell out at us.
"I'll go with him," I respond as I follow Dave to the door.
"Ready?" I ask him. Dave nods in confirmation as I open the door for him and he quickly walks inside. I follow him down the stairs slowly. A small flame from a single candle lights up the room as all I hear is my heavy breathing.
We both scan the room once we reach the bottom of the stairs. I can barely see anything, but I know for a fact that Dave and I are the only ones in the room.
"Clear," I say out loud after scanning my side of the room.
"Same here," he responds as he lowers his gun and walks towards me. "Where the hell are these bastards?"
I shrug my shoulders as I walk over to the candle. "This has been lit for a while. What's the use of it behind a closed door?" I think aloud.
Shit.
I turn to Dave just as the realization hit him.
"Assholes fled," he confirms already making his way back up the stairs.
"They're gone," I tell Sean as we get back to the rest of the group. "They must've known we were coming."
"They can't have gotten far. Let's go."
We follow him back out the home and scan the dessert surrounding us.
A breeze blows by us and I shield my eyes from the pelting sand it brings.
I hear a round of bullets go off. I jerk my head to the side and watch as Dave is shooting at a target that I can't even see.
More screams sound from the house at the noise.
"Straight ahead!" Dave yells just as one of the women run out of the house, screaming at us.
She grabs at my gun and is pleading with me, probably to spare her husband the death he has coming to him. I jerk my gun from her just as a bullet flies past me and right at her.
She falls to the ground without so much as a sound.
Her eyes are wide with shock as a trickle of blood falls from her mouth. I watch as she mumbles something.
Frozen, I continue to stare at her.
Another death because of me.
"Eli?" I hear Sean's voice from beside me. I finally register the bullets have stopped.
"Did we get them?"
"There were two. They were running when Dave saw them. I think he got them both," Sean lets out a laugh under his breath. "We'll be hearing about that for the next few days."
I want to laugh, but my eyes are stuck on the dead women in front of us.
"Come on," he says. "Go back to the group. I'll tell the women inside."
I look up at him. "They wanted me," I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
Sean sighs before speaking. "This is war, Eli. Shit happens. You do your duty. You do that," he tells me as he sets his hand on my shoulder. "And you'll survive."
I nod my head as I let him pull me away from the women and back to the rest of our platoon.
I bring my gaze back down to Clare. "That was the first time I was a part of a civilian casualty. I mean, she died because of me. How many more people have to die because of me?" I ask aloud as I feel my lip quiver.
I feel Clare take my face in her hands, attempting to fix my wandering eyes on her. "That wasn't your fault."
"Wasn't it?" I ask bitterly.
"No, it wasn't," she responds before gently wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her chin on my shoulder for the first time.
I freeze at her embrace.
I'm back at the crossroads. I await my own next move.
I can see myself lift my leg in the image flooding my mind and take one step forward in a different direction than I had expected as I wrap my arms around Clare's waist.
She tightens her grip on my neck as I constrict my arms around her and cling to her as I feel some of the moisture threatening to escape from my eyes. I nuzzle my head in the crook of her neck trying to shield myself from all the dark memories and hide in her light.
"I'm sorry about your dad," I whisper against her neck in a shaky voice.
She pulls away from me slightly and reaches up a hand to wipe at a tear that managed to fall from my eyes. I must look like such a weak, flimsy excuse for a man.
Her next words quiet those thoughts before they even have the ability to take root in my mind.
"I'm sorry you had to be so strong on your own for so long."
She returns to her previous position and I feel her grasp a fistful of my shirt as she deepens the embrace.
I bring her flush against me and bring my arms around her in an attempt to protect her from the demons threatening to take her just as she has done for me.
Oh goodness, this chapter had me feeling so many emotions! I really hope you enjoyed it because I really liked this one. :) Anywho, off to go write that paper of mine. I have so much inspiration now! Please be so kind as to leave me some feedback. I feel so happy when reading your reviews. You guys are amazing! Thanks for keeping with this story and continuing to read. I couldn't think of better people to go on this journey with. Love you guys! :)
