Hope everyone has a great Christmas/holiday :)

Tris was leaning against a wall in the lobby when Lincoln saw her. Jeans and casual t-shirt hung off her body in just the right way, her hair swept back into a messy ponytail at the base of her neck.

"Good morning," she said as he approached, and he noticed her fresh face and natural beauty.

"Mornin'," he replied, slowing as he approached her. "So, I was thinking we could go to this little place just around the corner. It won't be as busy as this place." He jerked his thumb towards the hotel's restaurant.

Tris tossed her hands up. "Wherever is fine with me. Lead the way."

They fell in step together, making their way out of the hotel and down the sidewalk of the city streets. It was busy, and it was hard to have a conversation as they both bobbed and weaved through the throngs of people. Eventually, Lincoln turned down the side street and the crowd thinned.

"Sleep well?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Well enough. I always sleep best in my own bed."

He grunted. He knew that feeling all too well. "Me too. I hate waking up in the middle of the night, forgetting where I am." Nightmares plagued most of his friends, but Lincoln struggled with the waking. He was a terrible sleeper, waking multiple times during the night for any number or reasons. Sometimes he'd wake up, especially when in a new place, and forget where he was. It reminded him of waking up in Germany, in a strange hospital, with strange people, and the panic that filled him when he realized he had no idea where he was. Sometimes, still, he'd flash back to that and his body would again be filled with that same panic, that urgency to figure out what wrong.

Tris nodded and he could see her nervous swallow. "I forgot to bring my melatonin. That definitely didn't help."

Lincoln slowed as he reached the restaurant door and opened it for Tris. She stepped in in front of him, addressed the hostess, and quickly they were seated at a table near the window. It was then, once they sat down, that Lincoln realized he had no idea what to say next.

"So what do you do for work?" Tris asked. She already knew he lived in Westville, the small town just thirty minutes from her.

He was grateful she was taking the lead. "I work for an engineering company. But I work in the marketing and sales department, not the actual engineering portion."

"Do you like it?" she asked, her attention unwavering.

Sighing, Lincoln couldn't help but shrug. "I do… but not as much as I liked the Marine Corps."

She paused before answering. "They sound like opposite sides of the spectrum. Marines are all about being rough and hard, and in marketing you almost have to be sly and smooth."

He laughed at the analogy. "I've never thought of it that way. I think I probably fit in the rough and hard category first."

"You seem like it," she murmured, her eyes absently taking him in as if he wasn't right in front of her.

Nervously, he grabbed his menu and started perusing, and they were both ready when the server came just a few minutes later.

"Will said you own your own business?" he asked her.

She nodded as she took a testing sip of her coffee, then pulled back when it was still too hot. "I do. I own an arts and crafts store. It sounds silly, but I promise it's more than that."

"It's not silly," he said quickly, "but what do you mean it's more than that?"

"Well, we sell supplies and stuff, but not like a big chain craft store. We do a bunch of different classes. You know how many women out there don't know how to use a power saw? There's such a gigantic world of art out there and people just don't know how, or are too afraid, to explore it."

"But it sounds like you aren't?" He couldn't help but be curious about it, her ability to take what for most people is a hobby and turn it into a successful business.

"I've always gotten a huge sense of satisfaction out of creating something," she shyly admitted. "It has always helped me feel a little bit more positive, even in dark times. I like to help other people feel that too."

The way she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders pulled at Lincoln's heart. In a world where he was surrounded by so many people doing so many things for themselves, here was someone who knew what it meant to help other people feel better. It was that same feeling that drove him, every day.

"I'm not saying I'm an art therapist or anything," she quickly added, feeling the need to eat up the silence between them. "But I do think it's healing, and a lot of times, it's a great way to preserve memories. A couple years ago I started working with therapists and charities to get their clients in. Even though it's my business and my job…I also like to think of it as a safe space for people. They can come in and create things that maybe are helping them deal with something…or maybe they just want to create things and not be judged." She shrugged. "I hope they all feel the way that I think they do."

His voice was soft when he finally found it again. "I think that's incredible," he said. He sat there, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He watched the nerves of her admission fade away as they sat silently, and although he knew he should say something to break the awkwardness, he couldn't find the words.

It was the waitress who finally broke the spell, expertly sliding their plates in front of them and refilling their coffees before making her way to the next table.

Tris's admission, her open honesty with Lincoln helped him to drop his guard. They continued breakfast, the conversation flowing easier after that. He asked Tris if he could come see her shop sometime after they both returned home. The question surprised both of them, as Lincoln realized that he had hoped to keep seeing her after these few days were up, back in their own worlds. And Tris had eagerly agreed, telling him that he was welcome any time.

He glanced at his phone to check the time as they were finishing up, surprised to see that it was almost time to head back to the hotel. The waitress dropped the check, and Lincoln grabbed it immediately, but Tris reached into her small purse.

"I can get my half," she offered.

Lincoln raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed. "Do I really give off the vibe of a guy who takes a girl on a date and expects her to pay for herself?"

Tris's eyes sparkled at him. "Oh, this was a date?" she asked playfully.

Panic almost set it, Lincoln nervous he'd misread the entire situation. But then he paused and looked at the playful, mischievous look Tris had on her face and relaxed.

"If you have to ask, then I guess not. Fork over your half," he returned. He slipped his cash and bill to the waitress, letting her know they didn't need change while Tris tossed her head back and laughed at his comeback.

"That was a much better response than you had to my joke last night."

He sighed as they stood from the table and made their way to the door. "Yeah, I'm still sorry about that."

"It's ok," she said as she put a hand on his arm to stop him from apologizing again. "I get it."

Lincoln gave her a grateful smile and slyly slipped his hand into hers as they walked down the street. The feel of her soft skin against his, the way she let her fingers rest against his…it had Lincoln's entire body buzzing in a way that he hadn't felt in so long. She was just holding his fucking hand and he was almost short of breath. He wasn't aware how much he had been missing until now.

They made it back to the hotel, Lincoln dropping her hand to hold the door open for her as they entered. "So, you're just gonna relax for the morning, right?" he asked as they waited for the elevators.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I can't tell you the last time I laid in bed and watched dumb TV. It'll be a nice way to spend a couple hours."

He shoved his hands in his pockets as they stepped on. "Well, you should come out for dinner tonight, too. I mean, you were included when we invited Will and Christina, but I want you to know that I would like it if you came."

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm sure we will."

They stepped off at the same floor, Lincoln following her to her own door. "It was nice of you to walk me to my room," she said she slowed in front of her door.

Suddenly Lincoln had the strong desire for her to invite him in, to push her up against the wall and crush his mouth against hers, tearing out that low ponytail so he could wind his fingers through her hair.

"Thanks for having breakfast with me," he settled on instead, as she leaned her back against the door frame, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I enjoyed it," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Lincoln was frozen. He was too nervous to step towards her, he was too afraid she'd reject him, or that he'd read her signals wrong, that she wasn't feeling the same thing he was. But it only took a moment of silence, and then Tris reached for his hand, pulling him in towards her, inviting him to get closer.

He stepped in, his free hand finding hers to link their fingers, and was just beginning to lean in when the door next to hers swung open.

Startled, they both straightened and Lincoln inched back, not wanting to give their intimate moment away to a stranger in the hallway. He rubbed his jaw, his confidence shattered.

"Alright, well, I'll see you tonight then, I hope."

She sighed, almost showing a bit of disappointment. "Yeah, I hope so, too."


Christina charged into Tris's room hastily, Anna on her hip. "You had breakfast with Lincoln?!"

Turning her head away from the TV, Tris exhaled. "Yeah." After her almost-kiss, she'd flopped down on her bed, buried herself under the covers, and watched mindless HGTV. She'd felt so much while she was with Lincoln, and could barely keep her breath steady when she'd pulled him in and he had accepted. He'd had her heart racing just from looking at her, and then he'd gone and help her hand. She was done for.

"Were you going to tell me?!" Christina put Anna onto the bed and then threw her hands up.

Tris sighed again. "Yeah, of course I was. I just didn't want to get in the way of him and Will building a friendship. If it was nothing, then no one would have to know."

"That doesn't matter to us, Tris." She sat down on the bed, facing her friend. "You know that."

Restlessly, Anna rolled around on the bed. Tris flipped the channel to something more kid appropriate and pushed herself up to sit. "I know. I was going to tell you today. But what you're here for is more important."

Christina nodded, her short hair moving around her face. "Yes, but you're important, too."

Squeezing her friend's hand, Tris nodded as well. "Thanks. So how'd you find out?"

"Will overheard Lincoln talking about it with Uriah. I think it's kind of a big deal for Lincoln to do that, from what the way they were talking. Will said that Uriah was really proud of him."

Tris reflected on the way Lincoln acted. He carried himself like he didn't have a care in the world, like nothing could knock him off his feet. It had to be hard to do that after losing a leg, she thought. But she could see hints of uncertainty in his eyes, pieces of nervousness.

"We didn't get that personal."

"Well…are you going to tell me how personal you did get?!" Christina asked, dipping her head to meet her friend's eyes. "I mean…it was a date right?"

Tris couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Yeah, a casual date." The morning flashed through her mind. "We went to this place close by…and it was…nice. He's a genuine person. He opened the door and he paid and he did all the gentlemanly stuff. But he asked me about myself, my business, and he showed genuine interest. Not just like, 'Oh…another chick who wants to chop up wood and slap paint on it.'" Tris rolled her eyes as she quoted the last guy she'd gone out with.

"I know you've been having doubts about still trying to meet someone," Christina said, "but I think this could be really good for you. And for Lincoln."

"Don't get my hopes up. You know how fast they can crash and burn."

"And you know how to pick them!" Christina playfully teased her friend. "I know it's slim pickin's out there and you've had some rough go arounds with men. And I know I don't really know Lincoln. But just seeing the way his friends gravitate towards him, the way they talk to him and about him, it makes me think he's not going to be like the rest of the guys you've met."

Tris smiled, remembering the way Lincoln's hand had felt as it curled around hers. Despite her attempts to be cautious, she couldn't help but feel a little hopeful about Lincoln. It was clear he'd been through a lot, and she thought maybe someone who'd been through as much – or worse – as she had would be a little more careful with her heart.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see. He did say he wants to come see the store sometime," she added.

"That's good! It means he's already thinking ahead." Christina flopped down next to Tris on the bed. "But spill the good details. Did he kiss you?"

Sighing, Tris recalled for the millionth time the way she had tugged at Lincoln's hand and he had willingly stepped forward. He seemed on board, but that he needed a little encouragement. She'd been aching to kiss him, to feel his beard brush against her skin as their lips met, since the night she'd met him. And they were so close, until the damn door opened beside them.

"No, we were interrupted. But I think he was going to."

Christina squealed. "I bet he's a good kisser."

"Down, girl," she jokingly warned her friend. "You're married."

"I know," Christina said, rolling her eyes. "But it doesn't mean I can't get excited for you! Plus, we haven't been able to swap s-e-x talk in forever."

Christina wasn't lying, it had been a while. But being young and carefree had only been fun for so long. As Tris grew older, she became more selective on her men and found herself coming up empty way too often.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Tris warned, but inside she was already thinking of the way it would feel to have Lincoln's strong hands running down her body. How his broad shoulders would feel under her palms, his thick brown hair through her fingers.

"How do you think it works? You know, he's missing half a leg, there could be issues." Christina, always blunt, would never shy away from pointing out the obvious.

"Well how does it work with no legs?" Tris shot back, slightly bothered by Christina bringing it up. It didn't bother her that Lincoln had a prosthetic, not in the slightest. And Christina of all people should know how touchy of a subject that could be for a man. Will had struggled for a long time, and Tris knew it was still an issue from time to time.

"At this point it is working just fiiiine," she draws out for emphasis. "It's been long enough that we've been able to work on it…medically and…otherwise, you know?"

Softening, Tris nods. "Yeah, I know." Will and Christina had struggled together in so many ways – way more than just sexual – after Will's injury. It was probably the first time she'd seen her friend vulnerable and doubting herself in so many ways. But she'd also seen how hard the two of them worked to make it work, to overcome the hurdles. And Tris thought that now they looked happier than they ever had.

It had opened Tris's eyes in a way. It made her realize that good relationships took work, they couldn't survive on feelings alone. A combination of those fiery feelings plus the daily commitment to better yourself with someone else was what made relationships – and marriages – survive. She just didn't know if she'd ever meet someone willing to do the work like her friends had.


For the first time in a long time, Lincoln sat in a support group and saw it from a new angle. In a circle, just like they looked like on TV, sat a group of veterans, mostly men and a few females, talking about their families. Some were there to talk about their parents, who were living with them to help with their care until they were further along. Many had significant others. All were in different stages of healing.

"Well," Will began with a deep breath when it was his turn. "I'm here because I need to better support my wife, I guess. As a partner, as a husband, as a father." His eyes glanced up at everyone listening attentively.

"I think we've gotten over a lot of hurdles in the past few years. When I first got injured I was angry a lot, I was mean. And Christina was…she was everything she could possibly be for me. I'm lucky she never left me, even though sometimes I deserved it."

Even the thought of Christina leaving him causes a flash of panic in his eyes and a hitch in his voice. Will rubs his barely there facial hair. "I think I just want to make sure that I'm the best man I can be for her, and for my daughter. I don't want to half ass anything in life, but especially being their guy…I can always do better, right?" He shrugs with his soft laugh. "Anyways, thanks for letter me be here, and letting me share."

The room is full of murmurs, thanks, and head nods. Person after person, story after story, they make their way around the circle, and slowly they make their way to Lincoln.

"Well," he starts with a shrug, "My therapist thought it would be a good idea for me to come here, even though it's an event centered on families. I come to a lot of these events and lead groups on healing and positivity and moving forward. I enjoy surrounding myself with my brothers and sisters and collectively working on improving ourselves. But I don't really have a family, so I've got nothing to offer here, really."

"Do you have anyone?" the group leader questions. "Anyone who helped you through recovery?"

Lincoln runs his hand over the back of his head. "My parents died right after I enlisted. So no, no one helped me." He pauses for a moment debating on adding, "I had a girlfriend before that deployment, but we weren't real serious. I told her she didn't have to wait while I was away. And she didn't."

It hadn't hurt Lincoln to say good bye to Sarah before his final deployment. She was in college, leading a life of rigorous studying and followed by a wild social life. It wasn't fair of him to ask her to put her future on hold when they didn't even love each other. So they'd said their goodbyes, and she'd written him a few emails and sent a few packages, but they were all friendly in nature.

"And anyone since?"

Taking a deep breath, Lincoln ponders the question. He's shared his experiences with women with his therapist, where honesty is the only way to move forward. But glancing at the men around him, he's not sure that they are ready to hear about some of the rejection and heartbreaking moments he's dealt with since his injury. So he pushes it aside and gives a half-truth.

"I think when I was still healing, before I was accepting my future," he motions to his leg, "I looked for comfort in the wrong places. I would meet women, and I thought that if one of them would just accept me, I could accept myself. But that wasn't the right place to look for that acceptance. Not some stranger in a bar or a woman on a dating app. It had to come from me, first." He keeps his eyes away from Will, not wanting to feel like he's putting his new friend in an uncomfortable position. "That's when I started working on myself. I found my therapist, and I knew I had to have the right mindset myself before I could expect anyone else to."

"I think your perspective is very helpful here, Lincoln," the group leader says. "For most of you, you have many roles in your life – provider, spouse, parent. But what Lincoln is saying is that you can't do any of those roles to your best ability if you aren't making your own mental health a priority, first. And once you start getting in the best mindset about yourself and your situation, whatever it is, you'll find yourself becoming better in your other roles for your family and loved ones."

"Some of you may already be there," Lincoln added. "You might already have moved through the stages of acceptance. That's what we do – we adapt and overcome. But what I've had to remember is that it's an ongoing process. You don't get to that stage of acceptance and stay there indefinitely. You have to keep working at it."

The group leader nods at Lincoln, appreciating his added advice. "Right. As the people come in and out of our lives, and the ones in our lives grow, we will need to grow with them." It dawns on Lincoln that perhaps his therapist had a reason for making him attend this after all.


"Hey," Will says as he rolls up next to Lincoln as he exits the doorway to the room their group had occupied.

"Hey," Lincoln returned. "How'd that go for you?" He nods his head back to the room in reference to the group.

Will nodded and took a deep breath. "Made me think a lot, that's for sure. I appreciate what you said, you know. It made me realize that sometimes I feel like I've got to be there for Christina and Anna, even if I'm in the middle of a hating-my-life episode or dealing with some physical pain. I felt selfish taking care of myself before them. But I know what you said is right. I see how it's helped you, you know."

"It's different," Lincoln defends. "I didn't have anyone wanting me around the way your family does. It's got to be a lot more challenging."

"It is hard," Will admits. "But still. I wish I would have listened to those words early on. And hey…it looks like you might have someone wanting you around now." He peers up at Lincoln cautiously, like he's not sure what his new friend is going to say or how he'll react.

Lincoln steps aside to a chair in the hallway they've strolled down and collapses back. "Tris?"

Will can't help but let out a chuckle. "Yeah. Look, I'm not here to get all caveman or defensive. Tris is a smart woman, she'll make her own decisions. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you share in there-" he points back to the room "or whatever you share with me in confidence is going to stay between us. I kind of thought you were holding back in there. I don't want that to be the reason."

Shaking his head, Lincoln assured his friend. "I appreciate you respecting my privacy, but I wasn't worried about that at all, man. Plus," a smile creeps across his face. "I'm sure a guy with one leg could beat up a guy with no legs."

Will lets out a deep laugh. "If you'd said that three years ago, I'd probably launch myself out of this thing at you to show you were wrong. But now, I think that's fucking hilarious."

Chuckling lightly, Lincoln smacks his friend on the shoulder. "That's called progress."