I stared intently at Chris. "Him not reporting back to command doesn't explain how you knew he was here."

"They have him listed as AWOL. If I don't tell them what the real situation is, he'll be arrested." Chris looked at me.

"But how did you know?"

Chris sighed. "There are just things you don't need to know." And he crossed his arms, which I knew indicated that the conversation was over. "He's going to be able to return, isn't he?"

"To active duty, we're not really sure. Depends on what the Army doctors say. We've not been able to find anything that shouldn't allow it. He has a couple broken bones, but nothing that should keep him from performing his job to the best of his ability."

Chris smiled. "He's my best Soldier."

"He told me that you were a held over Sergeant and that..."

"He's been moved to my unit, per my request." Chris rolled his head. "If I ever serve in that godforsaken country again, I want Tariq by my side."

"What is the relationship with you two?" I crossed my arms and leaned back.

"What do you mean?" Chris was shocked.

"I mean, it's almost as though your concern for him is on the same level as mine and..."

"I know exactly where you're going and I suggest you don't." Chris's intense stare made me shift. "I don't open up to my men about my life. I'm very guarded and I intend to keep it that way. Tariq has this way about him and I found myself talking to him. I took him under my wing and despite the fact I'm only 11 years older than he is, I felt like a father around him. I had to protect him."

"I figured as much."

"But you..."

"It's cool, man." I smiled. "He needs a father when he's in combat, right?"

Tariq began to shift and his heart monitor showed his heart was beating faster. I jumped up and tried to calm him down. He woke up and threw me across the room. He was yelling in Arabic and I couldn't understand what all was being said. I watched as Chris walked calmly over to Tariq and, in the midst of flailing arms, calmed him down. Tariq's heart began to return to normal.

Chris smiled. "It's okay, man. You'll be fine."

"Sarge, it's this..." Tariq began to speak but became quiet when he saw me crying. "What's wrong?"

"You threw her across the room."

Tariq had a genuine look of surprise. "CiCi, I didn't..." I didn't hear what else he said as I ran from the room.

I sat in the break room, drinking a cup of coffee when the door opened. "This is for authorized personnel only, Chris."

"I know." He sat in front of me. "It's time you knew some things about Tariq."

I stood up. "How do you like your coffee?"

"As black as an Arabian night."

I poured him a cup and placed it in front of him. "Spill."

He took a sip and sighed. "I don't know everything Tariq told you in letters and emails or phone calls, but he held a lot back from you. One of the reasons I came to see him when they came home was, not just because he had just been transferred to my unit, effective when his month's R&R was over, but because of what he'd seen in Iraq. He was affected in a way that none of the other men who served with me were affected." He paused for what I felt was for drama and sipped his coffee. A part of me was beginning to hate this man for not being straight forward about things. He still didn't say how he knew Tariq was in the hospital and hit by a hit and run driver. This bothered me, but as I opened my mouth to say something, Chris started telling the story. "We all knew it was coming. You go on this mission and you just know something's going to happen, right?" His hazel eyes stared intensely at me and I found myself shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"Well, not ever having been to combat, I can..."

"The mission was really straight forward. Because we were good at some of the shit missions, they were always handed to us." Again, a dramatic pause. He looked at his coffee. "This is some good coffee." He smirked. I just wanted to yell at him to just get on with the story and he seemed to sense this. "You want to always plan for the worst, but hope for the best." He sighed, seemingly annoyed at having to tell me this story.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's apparently upsetting you." I said in as calm of a manner as I could find.

Without looking up at me, he continued. His eyes were glued to his cup of coffee, as if the whole story was playing out in the drink. "We had seen people killed many times and in fact, were witness to an execution, no thanks to Dim, but this...this was..." He stopped and something told me that whatever it was affected him deeply too. "He should have shot the asshole with the machete first." He was dwelling on something and he was starting to get angry.

"Look, Chris." I put my hand on his. "You really don't have to tell me. It's okay." I soothed. "I hated Tariq for throwing me across the room, but having known him for as long as I had, I knew it wasn't normal for him, Chris. I knew that he would change because of the war. I saw it in the airport."

Chris snapped to attention. "What?"

"How well do you know Tariq Mohammad Nassiri?"

"Better than some and not as much as others."

I smiled. "Tariq is extremely, almost painfully shy. He would often, even as a junior high school kid, hide behind his parents if a stranger approached."

Chris looked at me like I was insane. "He hit it right off with Dim. Those two..."

"The war, Chris. I've heard tell that war changes men." I smiled. "He was often accused of thinking that he was better than everyone else because he couldn't talk to the new kids or whatever. He grew up with the tag of being stuck up when the truth was he wasn't really that good at conversation. He would clam up, not knowing what to talk about. Now, if you got him started on a subject he knew well..."

"Like Iraqi culture?"

"Like Iraqi culture, he could talk for hours." I smiled in memory of an argument that he had with a world history teacher about Iraq. While Tariq was right, he was still suspended. I regathered my thoughts. "So, anyway, this little boy of about 5 or 6 approaches him in the airport and starts asking questions. We all know that Riqy is going to just freeze and not be able to say anything, but nope. He kneels right down to that little boy's level and answers the questions and even talks to the mom. That's not the Tariq that joined the Army nearly 4 years ago, Chris."

Chris looked at me. "So, because of an incident in the airport, you think you know the depths of his changes?"

"Not all of them, of course not. There's still the possibility of PTSS."

Chris nearly broke the mug in his hands. I felt as though I had touched a nerve. "Guys don't respond that way to just the syndrome, lady." I was shocked at how he called me 'lady' and not Ciara and scared by his tone of voice. I began to shake and he seemed to notice. "Look, what he'll be suffering from is not going to be the syndrome. I've been in this war business a long time and I know..."

"Then help him." I wiped some stray tears.

"I can't."

I looked at Chris. "You're the only one who has the slightest inkling of what's going on in his head with all this war games shit and the only one he will more than likely open up to." I stormed out.

I checked in on Tariq, who was staring out the window. "How you feeling?"

He looked at me. "I'm sorry that I..."

"It's okay. I was upset, but not at you. I'm upset that I can't help you." I checked his IV and then sat on the bed, facing him. I held his hand in mine. "You have always helped me when I needed it and now, well, now you need my help with what ever is bothering you and I can't help." I wiped a tear. "But it's not because I don't want to. I just don't know or understand what you saw in Iraq. I can not even begin to comprehend what an impact that has had on your life."

Chris walked in. "How you feeling, Tariq?"

Tariq smiled at his Staff Sergeant. "Like I've been to hell and back." Tariq thought for a moment. "Wait...I was in Iraq, wasn't I?" It was good to hear him chuckle again.

Chris sat in the chair he was in before. "You're lucky, kid. Like I told you when you were shot." Chris rolled his head. "From what I've heard about how you looked when you got in here, it's a lucky thing you're still here." He propped himself on his knees. "Baron sent me here to find you. He thought something had to be wrong for you to not report to command."

Tariq sighed. "MPs looking?"

"Yeah, but they really don't have anything since we can prove you've spent the last couple of months in a hospital, recovering from a hit and run." Chris smiled. "Besides, it's Captain Baron and he's took a liking to you in Iraq that he'd do what ever he could to save your scrawny little ass."

"Glad it's official, Staff. I can't think of a better man to serve with." Tariq's eyes began to close in sleep. Without warning, his heart monitor started to flat line. The doctors rushed in, shoving Chris and me out of the way.

I stood, held in Chris's strong arms, as the doctors worked to save Riqy's life again. It wasn't long into it when one of them noticed that the machine had been accidentally hit and was malfunctioning. Somehow, despite what had just happened, we all managed to laugh. It was a defective machine and was sent away immediately for repair. When the new heart monitor was hooked up, we could see Tariq's rhythms were normal.

Chris sighed heavily and he and I both smiled. I looked at him. "Jiminy Christmas Eve! Who'd have thought a heart monitor could be so easily damaged by a simple knock?" I sat heavily in a chair.

Chris did the same. "It was kind of scary." He looked at me. "I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life and half the shit I've seen." This time, he turned his attention to Tariq. "It's nice to know, though, that he is okay. I mean..." and the man Tariq said was never short of words, was finally short of words.

Tariq laughed. "You mean to tell me everyone flipped out about the monitor? Didn't anyone think of checking a pulse? I mean that is what you do around here, isn't it?"

His sarcastic nature was getting him nowhere. "Just remember, I'm the one that controls your pain meds." I sarcastically replied back. "But, no. The reason we didn't check for a pulse is because that's what we are supposed to rely on the machines for, but I tell you what. From now on, I AM checking for a pulse. I mean, what would have happened if Dr. Poole hadn't caught that defect?"

"How'd he catch it?" Tariq asked.

I shrugged. "Don't know. They shoved me and Chris out of the way and it was all he could do to hold me back."

Tariq looked up at me from his breakfast. "What?"

I looked at him. "Yeah. I wanted to rush in and safe you myself, but your Staff Sergeant knew better. I don't know what tired him more, worrying about you or trying to keep me from shoving everyone else out of the room and trying to save you myself."

"Scream's a really good guy." Tariq smiled.

"Why do you all call him 'Scream'?"

Tariq shrugged. "Don't really know. For as long as he knows, his nickname's been 'Scream'. He told me he had it as a child, but doesn't remember the details on how it came to be. I just figured it was because he spent half his time yelling at the officers and the other half yelling at Dim."

I smiled. I knew that within a couple weeks, Tariq would be discharged and head back to Georgia. I wanted to spend whatever time I could with him, but it would have to be done in the confines of a hospital.